This is where I started, on the cold streets of New York, with the subway station to my right and a homeless man to my left. For years, this view of concrete and brick was my view as I hopped on the A train away from Brooklyn. I had a corner of Manhattan where I set up my guitar and sign: PAYMENT ACCEPTED IN SING-ALONGS, IMPROMPTU DANCES, AND SMILES.
Every morning, I drew a crowd, singing, dancing and sprinting off to work. During the lunch hour, someone would offer me a hot cup of coffee. In the evenings, I packed up my guitar, wondering if Times Square would ever play my music. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Sing-Alongs, Impromptu Dances, and Smiles”