On Saturday night, I picked up a street singer under an overpass.
He held a broken guitar and sang a song I had never heard. The voice is very nice, like someone with a story. I put a ten-dollar note into his piano case and he said thank you.
Later I went to listen to him singing every night. He sang it for three months and I listened to it for three months. He sang through summer, through autumn, and through many rainy nights.
I asked him: "Why do you always sing the same song?"
He said: "Because that song was written for my girlfriend."
I said, "Where is she?"
He smiled, a bitter smile.
"She died. Three years ago, she came to see me perform and got into a car accident on the way home. This was the song I sang that night."
He continued to sing, and when he finished singing the last line, he lowered his head and whispered -
"She always said that she would always listen to me singing."
"But she never heard it again."
I stood in the audience, looking at the way he lowered his head, and suddenly remembered something.
There seems to be a song like this in my memory. A boy stood on the stage and sang a song to a girl. The girl never heard him sing again.
I looked at him.
He looked at me too.
I asked him: "Three years ago, did you sing in that bar in the west of the city?"
He froze.
He asked: "How do you know?"
I said, "Because that night, I was sitting in the audience."
He looked at me, and the guitar string in his hand plucked a note.
That is the most familiar sound I have ever heard in my life.
Intention: One song remembers two people. Even if the memory disappears, fate will bring you back to that person.
