The Annonymous Accordion Player


Every Sunday, in the early afternoon music fills the streets of my neighborhood. A man playing the accordion walks up and down my long and narrow street. We do not know anything about him, but he has quickly become one of my favorite neighborhood characters. Rarely making eye contact with the formal and informal spectators that he attracts, he passes through the neighborhood with a sense of purpose and nonchalance. He does not demand an audience, nor does he immediately stand out from others on the street. Occasionally, he lures people to their windows, and sometimes into the street. Others encounter him by accident as they pass him on the street. Some stop and give him money, others walk by without any acknowledgement. I stand at my window, with a smile on my face when I remind myself that this is simply a normal day in the neighborhood.

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