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Soft. Cold. Quiet.

Little white flakes danced soundlessly toward the ground. Some glinted in the light, creating a serene sparkling in the surrounding air. A thick layer of somber gray clouds hovered over. The trees were bare; no birds or squirrels or insects could be seen or heard, as they were hiding away in their warm nests and dens, sheltered from the chilled flurries.

At least, that's how I'd have liked for things to be, but cities were constantly noisy, smelly, and bustling with people too busy to simply cast a smile to one another. Downtown Stohess was no different.

It was snowing, though, and the putrid smell of car exhaust or the hundreds of people around me-eager to find their destinations or take refuge in a building for warmth-couldn't have hoped to crush my happiness rooted from that.

The ground was still too warm for the snow to stick. The moisture soaked into the sidewalks and streets, darkening it to make it look as if it was freckled. I tried to find shapes in the spots as dainty puffs of mist manifested in front of my lips on every exhale, only to disappear into thin air without a trace.

I tucked my reddened nose under my royal blue cashmere scarf in search of warmth as I walked en route to the light rail to wait for it to come around again. As I walked along, a strange squeaking sound met my ears every so often. I looked around, trying to find the source of the sound, but to no avail. The closer I got to the stop, the louder it became. I came to the sudden realization that it was music as I moved closer. It drifted through the snow-filled air to my ears and as I made it to the stop, I saw the source to be a man, short in stature, standing just out from beneath the shelter of the station, holding a shiny mahogany violin on his left shoulder. He pulled the bow along the strings with his right hand, the left expertly finding the notes on the fingerboard to manifest a harmonious song.

I couldn't help but smile at the scene. The song he played resonated a kind of peace throughout the chilly air-a bubble of tranquility in the otherwise chaotic city. I was immersed in his sound as I approached; warmth began to bubble up in my chest until I realized no one was paying any attention to him or his song. They were all too busy glancing at their watches, scrolling through some meaningless, mindless crap on their cell phones, tapping their feet in impatience for the light rail to make its appearance.

I stopped at the other end of the little shelter. Even if no one else would take a moment to appreciate what a beautiful thing is taking place right beside them, I would. When his song came to an end, the bow gently fell from the strings and his head dipped. Still smiling, I clapped my gloved hands together a few times in a round of applause for him, earning a few annoyed scowls from the crowd. No matter, I ignored them.

The man looked up, evidently a bit bewildered until he spotted me. His handsome features relaxed and he gave me a small nod in thanks. I nodded back, partially conveying a 'you're welcome' and partially urging him to play more. However, just as the first few notes of the next song rung out, a loud, "Hey!" interrupted and grabbed, his, my, and the rest of the crowd's attention. Our heads turned to find two police officers rushing in his direction, their hard stares and authority focused solely on the violinist.

"Kid, do you have written permission to be playing that here?" one of the officers demanded.

The man's 'no' was so soft I barely heard it.

"Then you can't be playing that here. You got one chance to scram or I'll have to confiscate that piece of junk." The cop indicated the violin with a nod of his beanie-covered head.

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