Singing in the Rain

My first day busking by that tree in the centre of town. Someone is cooking something downstairs. My stomach perked up like a dog at the door. 

The spot I chose, near the afore mentioned tree, was under a sort of short tunnel between buildings. It trickled on and off, and when it did, people found shelter under there. And they listened to me play and sing. And they liked it, their smiles said. No one really plays there. I play there now.