The beginning of something...

The sound of a bow on strings floats along the wind. It is slow and full of sorrow. It feels like someone hurting, like someone is being cut apart slowly, bleeding out. The sound is sadness personified. It is a deep longing; It Is trying to find a connection that was once there that is no longer there. Then, a bass guitar joins in, creating a disjointing harmony with the cello, and a voice. The voice is low and menacing, throwing in a random sad chuckle. I can no longer resist moving toward the sound. I pick up camera bag up off the bench next to me, and make sure It Is properly loaded and ready to go. I walk, putting my cane down In front of me as I walk. The limp is bad today because of the weather conditions, but I try to put it out of my mind. I round the corner of the park and see a small gazebo. There, In the middle of It Is a small band, with a Cello player, a Bass guitar player, a man with a guitar and a harmonica. The man with the guitar is singing into a microphone, his voice gravelly with emotion. He sweeps his brown greasy looking hair up and off his forehead. HIs eyes are lost, almost vacant.