alleyway jazz

I had headphones on my ears, the song set on repeat to an old jazz tune I've long forgotten. I knew precisely what I was doing--walking down that narrow alleyway, looking for a point of escape, creating a second reality. On a pale yellow wall where the sunlight was casting blotches of color in between the shadows, I stopped to look up. There in that brief moment, the piano began to echo a familiar tune. In the stillness, a middle aged woman dressed in purple pajamas with a conical hat atop her head motioned for me to move. Out of the way, she was gesturing--work to do, a family to feed, and so on. Pressing my back to the wall, the wheels on her vendor cart blurred off into the distance. Finding repose, I continued my walk and turned the corner. On the grey pavement, a sparrow had fluttered into existence. A female voice began to sing of a place that only existed in dreams. After a bit of mutual disinterest, it took flight into an unseen empty space. I scratched my head. Further down, squatting against a blue iron gate were two children busying themselves with some rocks they had found.