Behind the door a neglected garden is taking the backside of an industrial building. The patio is deserted if it isn't for a small pile of debris that we leave aside. The building is this tall wall of red brick with dirty windows in groups of three. The back wall, the one closing the patio, is just an unresolved slope of bricks giving to the scene the feeling that you better turn back and forget about getting in. But there is a door. And from that door a barely perceptible breath of harmony is coming like an enchanted anthem. He does not hesitate but stops before opening this new door:
- Just be friendly and aloof, don't make me regret this day.
And I just say yes with my head.
Remember when somebody invites you to a secret party and they ask you to close your eyes so then when they tell you to open them again you barely see nothing and the light is blinding your eyes. More or less, that is what happens. I need some seconds to restore my visual skills. And when I do, I realize that something is clinging. That the harmony did stop. That I seem to be the reason why the time has been frozen in an instant of pending uncertainty.
I catch them looking at me. Right in front of me, my friend, I don't even know his name, is getting his place behind the drums. He is talking as if he didn't care about his own words:
- He's just a friend. He's gonna stay quiet and responsible. He's coming from someplace in Europe.
I nod again and take some steps back and find some sort of empty table and sit my ass on it while I say hi to this bunch of people looking at me. To the right, one very slim guy, with a thick and long beard is staying stiff with a shiny bass on his hands. To the left, this pretty lady with long black hair but an unfriendly look didn't move from her stoll behind some sort of keyboard. And then is him, just close to me, resting his back on an iron pillar. He is sitting on some sort of wooden bucket. He is big. And old. He has a guitar he's resting on his lap. He is smiling. He has this rounded face with sparky eyes and a woolen hat.
I felt like he is checking on me. But it feels good. And he gets bored very quick. He's the first to talk.
-Anyway...
He has once of these voices that seem to come from a very old place.
- ... let's keep on shaking that crap.
And then it all starts. And some where in the way I close my eyes.
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