My sax man blew cool notes — long, sonorous, penetrating, soul-awakening baritone notes. When sated, he smiled at the horn, no piece of molded metal, but a living, breathing partner.
When my sax man died, I sent the horn to someone I’ll never know. In Hong Kong, the bari breathes again.
Janet Feldman is a semi-retired psychotherapist with a journalism background. She currently focuses on short stories with an emphasis on human interaction.
Loved it!
Thank you!
Loved your words Janet and love my Uncle John.
Great piece of writing!
Thank you for your kind words!
Excellent imagery and tribute to the man & his instrument.
Thank you so much, Myrna W.
Love and the anguish of loss.
We are the sad experts, Matt!
Lovingly words my dear friend…he is always with you.
Thank you so much, Robin. You are so right, as you know too well.
A beautiful story of giving (the soul-awakening music) ,receiving the music, losing the music, and then letting go, sending the beloved metalic friend to who knows what fate in a strange land, an act of astonishing generosity and trust that the right union may be found, that the music will breathe on.
Thank you, Rick for that very moving analysis. I truly appreciate all that you found within my words, and you really captured what I was trying to say.
So sweet. The sax continues bringing joy.