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Roses and Limes

Kent Nelson

Henschel held the last note and gazed at Mattie. It was easy in the joy of the moment to forget everything else. Her long brown hair wisped in a gust of street wind, and she looked away to God-knows-where, but Henschel loved that last harmony, the blend of spirit that kept the crowd on their tiptoes three or four deep on the park sidewalk.

When the song ended, Henschel did his riff on the guitar. Mattie turned her back to the crowd and said, "Let's get the hell out of here."

But the crowd clapped and shouted, and Henschel tipped his blue seaman's cap, letting his unkempt red curls spill out. "Just one more," he said to Mattie. "They love you." He kept smiling and nodding at the crowd.