I opened the bag slowly, and when I looked inside it, I discovered it was full of drugs. I was very shocked and said to the man, "What is it I thought it was a game and a mission from the system!"
"No time for these trifles. I work here, and I don't have time to play. If you can't handle this, you're in big trouble."
"Believe me man, I don't want these drugs and I have nothing to do with this, I just thought you were the doorman and the stupid screen didn't say anything when I needed it"
I felt something bad approaching, I tried to calm the man down but my words about the system, the screen, and the doorman only increased his confusion. He put his hand on his head and said and he shivered.
"Do you think I'm a laughing stock You're a undercover cop aren't you"
"Hey! What No! "The situation has further complicated.
Without a warning he takes out a small knife and approached me as an animal that comes out its claws, most likely losing his composure he waves like a madman in the air.
What do I do ! I just grabbed the bag and threw it into the fountain with all my might. The water splashed everywhere, and the bag dived into the depths. I tapped the moment and started running at full speed, trying to escape the man.
I heard his angry voice behind me as he shouted, "You'll regret this!" But I didn't stop. I was running between the narrow alleys, trying to get as far away as possible. The dim lights were lighting my way, and the cold air sting my face, but I could feel nothing but fear and desire to survive.
As I ran, I heard the man's voice jump into the fountain trying to get the bag back. The sound of his movement in the water was getting noise. I took advantage of that moment to increase my speed and move away more.
After a while of running, I stopped to catch my breath. I was away from the fountain now, but my heart was still beating fast.I raised my head to see where I am. I had reached the bar.
I'm back to zero! "
I tiredly sat at the door of the bar, "Were I originally moving from the foundation !'
I was finding myself stuck in the same vicious circle.Trusting this game of triviality and believing that my life maybe has some excitement, that I am a special person maybe I deserve more and that I have always been the victim No, just me, it's me! A normal person even he doesn't know who it is!
"Why are you panting boy!" He heard a voice behind me, from the trace of fear I immediately got up. To find out he's the manager.
He looks at my pathetic face,I bet he didn't see a more miserable sight of him. He sits to my side and lights up a cigarette.
"What happened He asks me.
No reply, instead he replies.
"I thought you deserved a salary, we don't have financial well-being but we loved your companionship.. I think seriously even to be part of the family. What do you think "
Look at him and everything that comes to my mind is one question
"Principal, do you like Jazz "
"I think this place answers you." He smiles and it's like my question is ridiculous.
"If you like Jazz, why did you break up with your band, why did you break up, did those moments mean nothing, why did everything in this world not last as we love or just disappear without effect" My head is full of questions.
He looks at me tenderly father. He smokes his cigarette that formed a cloud around him.
"Listen. Life, like Jazz's cut, gains its value from rhythm, from consistency, and from harmony between its tones. Perhaps life is temporary, and we may eventually differentiate from it, but the importance lies in the way we live every moment, in every tone we play, and in every feeling we carry in our hearts.You will discover many things and you have to decide which you keep and which you leave, in my case duty came before passion, responsibility before love, family before jazz"
"But what stays after the decision What remains after separation "
"There's something in music that's life-like, that conspires spontaneously and breaks up noisily, that goes into a rhythm that sounds endless but it's really just a musical sentence that ends.just like that"
".. Just like that I was not convinced or rather I do not want to be convinced.
"Maybe because we ourselves are constantly changing. The waves collide on the shore, the rocks slowly sculpt, and our hearts resemble those rocks, changing with every new blow of time. We live in a world that does not stop, and every moment melts in the other, which makes continuity an illusion that we try to hold on to"
He takes another breath of cigarette and then completes
"Listen, you think a lot about the past and the future, but the funny truth is that the past will not return and the future will probably not come,Most of human psychological problems come from overthinking about the future or the past. Think here, at this very moment, don't think about your next or previous decisions don't think about your wrong.. Don't just try. And you'll find out how happy you are."
Hearing the sound of music emanating from inside the bar, he told the manager that he probably forgot to turn off the cylinder device.He asks me to enter to extinguish it and he is leaving. Before that I ask him a final question
"There's always a second choice, maybe the band could have continued, why didn't you do this "
He took a deep breath of the cigarette, his eyes closed like they were trying to escape this reality.The smoke slowly escalated into the air, curling around himself in broken rings. It gradually faded into the sky, just like dreams evaporating as the sun rose.As soon as it was all over he opened his eyes and answered me.
"Well I don't know but don't think I regret something, just keep on my way"
I pushed the door slowly, and walked in. The darkness was surrounding the place, except for a faint light coming from the far corners. I paused for a moment, trying to figure out where the cylinder device was, but suddenly, the sound of saxophone melodies began to creep into my ears as night ghosts. The tones were making their way through the darkness, filling the bar with sad and sexy melodies, as if playing the strings of my heart.
I slowly advanced towards the source of the voice, and every step was increasing my alarm. The dim lights were shining on the old walls, images of old musicians looking like they were living with those tones. I was moving as someone following a mirage in the desert, immersed in the magic of music that quenches the darkness of the listener.
Upon getting closer, I saw the saxophone stand alone, drowning in his play. It was like a drunk, as if music was taking him to other worlds, far from this place. His fingers were moving brightly on the buttons, like they were touching leaves of an autumn tree slowly falling. The tones were flowing smoothly, as a table of water crossing an ancient garden, taking me away from my reality and drowning me in deep contemplation.
He used various techniques to bring depth to music, from sad long tones to sharp short tones, each of which held different emotions. His breath was in tune with the tones, creating a feeling of intimate communication between him and his machine. The saxophone tones were dancing in the air, sneaking through the dim blue lights, and wrapping around me gently.
The morning hadn't arrived yet and it couldn't be said to be night either. It was dawn time.
His fingers glided brightly on the buttons, carefully controlling the tones and giving them a special life.
Then, suddenly, the dripping noticed me and saw me standing in the dark. His ants stopped moving, and silence dissolved in place, as if the entire tavern held its breath at that moment. The silence was so thick that I felt his weight on my shoulder, and every other sound in the world seemed to have faded.
I stood there, it was a while before I realized that the music had already stopped. There was something deep and touching in this sudden shift. I felt as if the player had pulled the veil between reality and dream, and slowly brought me back to the present. That moment was imbued with a sense of solitude and contemplation, and all the thoughts that were running through my head suddenly stopped.
I wondered how and why he's playing here this late at night. I couldn't resist my curiosity, but a current tongue was faltering in the dark, unable to formulate the right words. At that moment, the last thing I wanted to ask had simply come out of my mouth.
"Are you the doorman !"
He walked out of the shadows, carrying his musical instrument, an old person with a huge physique, his black formal clothes befitting his playing, and his big hat covered his eyes to the point where their vision was difficult.
"I've been waiting for you for days, two(2)" the man said with all excitement.