The Shop of Googly-Eyed Jazz


I am tired, and in a corridor looking for a bathroom. They are all in use. I wander into a small space. It is a craft shop selling googly eyes. I have never been there before. I am waiting outside the shop for the owner. He lets me in. There’s a group of people with me. A string trio are playing with a drummer. I grab a double bass and improvise some jazz to bridge the gap.

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