Showing posts from July, 2017

Eine kleine Nachtmusik

The young man had a reputation in Newdean for an undefinable oddness, an aura of peculiarity. He would sometimes be seen walking the streets at night, singing strange songs and making bizarre gestures, as if he were conducting an invisible orchestra. The first, and only, time I saw him, he fascinated me. It was in The Crown, the more pleasant of the two pubs in Newdean, but not by much. He sat alone in a corner, a ring of empty pint glasses sitting on the table before him.
I ventured over, introduced myself.
‘Mind if I join you?’
He shrugged, pushed a stool out with his foot.
He was tall, gangly, pale, dressed entirely in black. I didn’t know what it was about him that drew my attention, but I couldn’t look away from him. He oozed mystery like a palpable substance. He was taciturn; economic and precise with his words.
I asked him what he did.
‘Nothing much. Some music.’
‘That’s interesting. What kind of music?’
‘Music from my dreams.’
‘Your dreams? So, you dream of a tune, and then p…