The music was loud.
Full of energy and aura I was sitting in the corner of the room veiled in a cloud of smoke and listening to the sound of Sonny Rollins. Bar was full of people. Smoking, walking, drinking, scuttering, not taking notice of my presence. The sound was being interrupted by their conversations and clinking of their mugs. One by one were passing my table but only one stopped and looked at me.
„My name is Moose the Mooche,“ he said.
„So what..“ I replied.
„Wassup man… do you want girls, grass? Do you want to spend A night in Tunisia, see a nomadic Caravan? One word is enough for me.“
„Get off man. Let me savour this Misty atmosphere. Immaculate.“
Something inside told me to take a pill from him, but I ain´t see the purpose. So I stayed there In a sentimental mood, wondering, pondering, listening…
„The next show is about to begin…“ the mindless voice announced. Hallucinations. My head was throbing and I ordered another spirit without hesitation . This little concert of an unknown group converted into a huge jam session. Raving feeling was rushing through my head as the sax player was composing his solo part right in the spotlight. This music is invocation, this music is curse… but this music is the best way of communication without words and other deafening impacts. Nice…, at last there is something to die for.