you sat on the street bench with a guitar in your hand, the snow was falling in New York which meant Christmas time was around the corner, you been single and alone for many years, you played “they there Delilah” on the guitar, people would pass by and watch, one person stopped by and sat next to you, listening to your voice

“Hey mate, you sound really good” the man said next to me, he has blue eyes, a Mohawk and a bright smile