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Unfinished Story
by Evelyn Kandel

                                                                       
I have no memory of how

a tuba got in my bedroom.

The bar was smoky, crowded.

people pushing against one another.

A band kept blues-ing notes,  a

tuba player was a between act:

he actually could get a soft sound

from it. We had a drink together.

I drank the music and the wine;

left when both were finished.

I can’t remember if the player

came with the tuba.

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