A warm breeze rolls through the alley. Someone’s playing piano through an open window — slow and clumsy, but not bad. You hear birds. Rare in this place.

You cross a cracked sidewalk. The imprint of an old rap battle still scars the ground.

A dog watches you from behind a fence. You nod. It sits.

A neon sign blinks:

“Funk City Rhythm Fair Tonight — Everyone Welcome”

Not your scene. But maybe… you’ll pass by.

(You keep walking.)