A pair of beautiful legs, barely hidden by a colourful summer dress. Killer stare, killer smile. There’s a friend by her side playing the guitar, doing a great job. Fingers run smoothly on the strings; sounds good, a bit loud. She’s trying to speak while I’m trying my best not to hear a word she pronounces. I let the music be her voice; I don’t want to ruin the scene. A sweet, simple scene. Except for the smell of cigarettes. Fucking cigarettes. Everybody seems to be having a good time. Drinks, lots of them, all over the table. We’re outside. Weather’s clement; it’s a cool, calm evening. My friend really knows how to set a mood with his instrument. There’s a bunch of wires and electronic devices at his feet, enhancing the intimate vibe, making him sound like a band. I often forget how inspiring it feels to listen to some live quality music, doing nothing at all. I close my eyes. I’m alive.