the jazz door by =Miladydaisy on deviantART
The saxophone on the door opened into a dark club, tastefully decorated in blue neon lights and dimly lit vinyl booths. In the middle were wooden chairs around small round tables large enough for a votive candle and a couple of drinks, maybe an ashtray.
On Thursday nights, it was standing room only.
On Thursday nights, the hottest local jazz band played, like they had played every night for the last two years. On Friday nights they played a larger venue, and rocked it too, but the feel of the small club was unbeatable, and the acoustics were perfect. It was intimate enough for a couple to hear each other without screaming, and loud enough that no one else was gonna hear them either.
I tell you all this because I want you to understand that this club was where the music thrived. So when they shut it down, because the owner died, because there were no next of kin and because it was settled as part of his estate, paying off his debts... when all those things happened, the music died.
The music was part of the soul of that place, but that jazz door was the doorway to the music. Somehow the closing of the jazz door closed the door to their hearts. No one really can explain it, but it was a lot like the couple that dies together within days of each other because they don't want to live without the other. Plain as that.
I hear the saxophone player bought that door and put it on the front of his house. But I also hear he sold his sax and never played another note.
Funny how some doors work like that.
*photo appears courtesy of Cat