One More Song — Pullover Hoodie

The song reaches you before you've decided to stop. You slow down because you recognize a bit of it, then remain where you are because you would like to see whether it becomes the bit you know properly. Someone else has done the same. You are now a small audience, although a few people are still maintaining the fiction that they are waiting to cross.

There is something lovely about finding a performance in the middle of an ordinary day. You hadn't booked it, dressed for it, or worked out whether it was worth the journey. You were already here. A person begins tapping one foot and then notices, as though the foot has shared a private opinion. A child has fewer reservations and considerably more choreography. For a little while, the pavement has another purpose.

You could leave at the end of this one. That was the arrangement you made with yourself, and it was a good arrangement until the next song started. Someone near you smiles in recognition. You stay long enough to share that small pleasure, then finally continue, carrying a tune that has made the errand feel slightly less like something you had to do.

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