Across the Courtyard
The thing about Paris at 3AM is that there’s no place to go where the sidewalks haven’t been rolled up for hours. So I count sheep and try practicing scales on my flute. But nothing brings sleep. Then, from the building across the courtyard, comes the faint sound of a cello playing the lush melody of Duke Ellington’s ‘Satin Doll:’ Cigarette holder which wigs me Over her shoulder, she digs me. Out cattin’ that satin doll.Lifting my flute, I join in on the second verse.The cello hesitates at the...