Sax Man

(Previous installment)

He knew he had to keep playing. For the money, of course, to wring a little more spare change from the commuters before the morning rush ended. The evening rush wasn't quite the same. Unlike the morning, when workers plodded grimly toward their offices and seemed to relish any delay they could find, including a saxophonist playing tunes they had never heard, in the evening they were all in a rush. A rush to make their trains, a rush to get their cars out of the garage and beat the traffic to the expressways, a rush to get home. No time to pause.

(Next installment)