Music Making

The night was mild for the time of year and clear, and every detail of the busy streets seemed crisp and colourful. The sound of cheerful holiday laughter, the crunch of footsteps on icy patches in the streets, the bright multi-coloured scarves that adorned every person’s neck.

As usual, the street lamp above Mack’s doorway was flickering on and off. Above street level in the second-floor apartment, a raging argument was thrown about, seemingly with no conclusion. From within Mack’s flat on the first-floor, a distant and indistinct music played. Hope smiled as she thought of Joe singing in a perfect rich tenor voice whilst sat in Mack’s living room.

Walking up the front steps and tapping her boots clean as she did so, Hope knocked firmly on the door. The music stopped abruptly, signalling that the music had been Joe playing something and that he was now coming to the door. Hope tried to stop her heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him.