Flashbacks

You should sit alone in a theater, a shabby, old one if possible.

Lights out.

Screen light shone on your face, as if you were on the stage, spotlight on.

Your mind started to wander away. You remembered that summer in 紐奧良. There was a butchery around the street corner that carries the best shredded pork sandwich in town. Behind the dark greasy tables were a row of game machines. Couple of locals were playing on them. You grab a bite and headed on. It was afternoon and the sweat soaked your shirt. Then you saw the girl with guitar, leaning on the wall, playing a careless tune. You wished your future daughter would grow up to be just like her - brave and free.

Nothing beats an early summer evening drink in a jazz club of NOLA. You walked right into the Preservation Hall that night. That was when you fell in love with Jazz. Not the pieces that you would hear in a coffee shop. It was daring, intense and free.

You memories were shattered like montages but the warm sunshine, the smell, the sound of blaring trumpet - they defined that summer and the southern city for you.

Before you know it, the music faded out. You left the city and never came back like you promised.

And you realized the movie ended, with the man playing the ending note, and the woman leaving the jazz club.

You knew you were alone in the theatre and can wipes away the tears without embarrassing yourself.

Lights on. You stood up, and left.