When Jack Garrett first heard the otherworldly voice, his head snapped up and he quickly surveyed the street around him. The song, or rather ‘the voice,’ was hypnotizing, powerful, and crystal clear. He listened, recognizing the song as Memories, made famous by Barbra Streisand. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t a recording because he couldn’t hear any accompanying instruments. His eyes swept over the multi floored apartment buildings, looking for a woman singing; but, he couldn’t see anyone.
He stood there on the street, with his hands in the pockets of his black cashmere jacket, as he scanned the apartment buildings again, floor by floor, balcony by balcony, looking for any kind of female form.
“Damn!” he swore, causing one or two pedestrians to look at him disapprovingly. “Damn, damn, damn!”
How was he going to find this singer? She could be in any of the numerous apartment buildings on this busy street in Greenwich Village. If only she would show herself.
When the last notes of her song had faded away, he almost panicked. His heart was thumping like a drum until the incredible voice started again, this time with Phantom of the Opera. Her voiced calmed the beating of his heart and he began to relax again. He wondered if she had the skill to hit the high note that challenged so many singers. He waited in anticipation; but, he wasn’t surprised when she nailed it, effortlessly, just like a professional.
“Where are you girl?” he whispered out loud. “Who are you? Show yourself.”
He walked up and down the intersection, occasionally stopping to listen more closely, trying to determine where the voice was coming from.
When his rumbling stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, he ordered a hamburger from street vendor and sat outside on a bench. In the evening air the angelic voice floated down to him; warming his heart and sending cold chills up his spine.
He closed his eyes and shook his head. Such a voice! Such a talent! And he didn’t have a clue where to look for it.
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