First Day, First Song: Poemè - By Secret Garden
The first time he saw her, she was standing on a corner.
Like most people, he didn’t stop to talk to her, nor did he acknowledge her as he passed. He had a tendency not to acknowledge most people, unless they pissed him off or wanted something from him. Generally, he was fine with ignoring just about everyone, and she was no different.
She even kind of blended into the background.
His feet pointed him towards home, towards a bed seldom made and an apartment that was as cold and empty as the rest of his life. He would have made it home, too, if the sound of music hadn’t stopped him.
Rafael De Santos didn’t consider himself a connoisseur of the fine arts. Hell, he didn’t consider himself a connoisseur of anything. He didn’t even like music all that much, and the idea of staring at a painting for any amount of time made him almost physically ill.