A Gust of Paper

Out on the pavement, a street musician had left an open violin case completely unattended beside a green bench, with a tall stack of blank sheet music pinned down by a heavy stone. Far too composed for a bustling afternoon. I crept under the bench slats, using the flat side of my small blade to nudge that smooth grey pebble right over the brink. The pebble tumbled off with a sharp clack. Free from its anchor, the papers caught the sudden updraft of a passing bicycle, fluttering upward like startled white doves across the concrete. I leaned against an iron post, watching the delightful flutter dissolve into pure, spontaneous chaos.