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October 1, 2009

Watch. A tall dark stranger is shuffling into the dull light of a lamp-post, the smoke from his cigarette curling upwards to mingle with the stars. Crouching, he starts to unpack his saxophone, metal straining together until its complete. He stands.

Alone.

Glancing left and right. He crushes his vice, licks his lips. Then, his left leg shaking, he starts to play. The noise seems to be an affront to the emptiness, until the darkness finally starts to embrace it. Baker Street. Classic. Lights flicker on violently, protests are raised.

The man smiles. The half-humans stop.

Just listen