Snippet #1655943

It was just another day returning from work for Robert, his shift at the music store uneventful. Sales were going down, slowly, but they had been for several years now. In the same way as music was lost, confused with the rubbish of technologically produced junk. True artists were becoming rarer and rarer. The wind shifted direction slightly, running between the low buildings that passed the abandoned dance studio. That was when he heard the song, drifting from further down the street. He continued in that direction, curious as to the source. A figure sitting upon the roadside of the quiet street, cradling a guitar. He paused and lent against a nearby lamp post outside her field of vision, listening to her quite song. Such situations were becoming more common with the upcoming music competition. Robert had hoped that the shop would pick up business but unfortunately there was not such luck.