walk down a street in the center of attention among the people to see who comes to meet me face I know. I just
case the gesture of a smiling girl who stoops to put some money in the hat of a street musician.
We do it because now even the case that has become a thing unusual, I intend to leave a coin.
continue walking with his eyes focused forward, but that gesture has caught my attention and now I listen to the music player. It is not trivial, is not the usual well known little music for the consumption of tourists. No. This, cabbage, sounds just fine. A feast for the ears, each note left behind him a feeling of joy and fulfillment, as when something is done well and we are happy. I look at the player, running his fingers on the instrument, the caress, embrace it, he swings like a dance, smiles.
How lucky to have noticed and not be passed over as if nothing had happened.
A good memory is feel good from a distance.
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