A Meeting in the Streets

Lindsey was not an easily distracted person. Even as a child she was always focused in school and at home. The few times her mind would wonder to something else it would not be for long and she would quickly resume her focus. Today, however, rather than focusing on getting to her class and preparing for assignments, Lindsey Luna Politis was fixated on the sound of a reed pipe. The song was so sad as it flowed through the air, like leaves in autumn.

She stood on the sidewalk, hoping to listen a little longer. The traffic light turned green so people could walk across the street. Some bumped into Lindsey giving her cold glares and telling her to move it. She looked at her watch. She still had ten minutes until class started. Not wanting to trouble anymore citizens with her loitering and suddenly desperate to discover to discover the source of the music, she stepped away from the crosswalk and followed the melody.

She expected to see speakers for some tourist attraction. What she saw was a lonely man, leaning against a wall, holding a wooden reed pipe to his lips but expertly not letting the two touch. He was tall and thin from what she could gather. Blue jeans that were torn at the knees and an open black dress shirt over a white v-neck covered beautiful dark skin. Lindsey stood beside the man and watched him play, his eyes closed so she could not tell what color they may be or what exact emotion he was feeling. An old backpack that had seen better days and a paint bucket were the only things that surrounded him. The bucket was empty but for a few dimes and a dollar. Lindsey cringed at the sight. To see such art receive so little attention. Still the song continue and people passed by. It was only one instrument and yet the sound was that of an orchestra of the wind. At last the song ended. The artist opened his eyes to reveal impossible amber orbs that put the sun's beauty and radiance to shame.

"you play Pan's flute so well I dare say you are the master piper himself," Lindsey exclaimed, heartily.

The man gave her an amused grin. "I assume, when you say Pan, you are not referring to the flying boy that never grew up, am I correct?"

Lindsey flushed a little, but returned the smile. "I was speaking of the Greek God Pan. The half man half goat shepherd who made the reed pipe from the very plant that the nymph Syrinx turned herself into in order to escape his love." Upon saying this, she realized she may have unintentionally insulted the stranger.

But he seemed to be pleased with her words and bowed before her as an actor would do for an audience. "Then I shall take your compliment with a warm heart."

"And that is not all you shall receive from me," Lindsey said as she dropped a twenty into the paint bucket.

"Thank you very much, ma'am! My name is Patrick Evans."

"I am Lindsey Politis. Have you been here long?"

"No! I used to set up camp by a cafe until the manager said I had to leave, this morning. But it's all good. New places, new people, better chances, right?"

"I suppose so, look Patrick, it was nice meeting you but I have to go to work. Perhaps, I'll stop by on my way back, if you are still here!"

"Oh yes, I'll be here until late! Gotta attract as many people as possible if I wanna pay the bills. I'll see you then, Lindsey."

"Alright then! Goodbye Patrick!"

The musician waved broadly before taking up his reed pipe and played a more joyful song.

Lindsey smiled as she made her way through the ongoing crowd, ignoring the usual city noise for the sweet music made on the instrument made by Pan.