Tunnel Resonance

The morning air drew me toward the wide concrete mouth of the pedestrian underpass. High above the footpath, a narrow tiled ledge ran along the curved wall, sheltered from the distant street noise. I climbed the rusted conduit pipe to reach it, planting both boots firmly against the cool ceramic glaze. There was nothing loose, nothing waiting to be set right. I slid the tortoiseshell pick from my strap, set my fingers, and struck a fast, driving three-chord progression across the strings. The hollow chamber seized the vibration, throwing the sharp notes against the curved tiles in a rolling wave of thunder. It felt alive.