Stop and Hear the Music.

I was walking down the bustling streets of New York City. Ever since I started my job, nothing has become simple. Everything became a blur of stress and work that sometimes I forgot to breathe. Every day I made the same commute to and from my work, riding the morning bus and then taking the mile walk when I could. Here I was on the phone with my coworker stressing over a project with the ever-looming deadline creeping closer and closer.

"Yeah, Marc is working us like dogs huh," I joked.

"Undoubtedly, but he bribed us with a paycheck and unfortunately, we're suckers for food on our plates." Sam chuckled.

I laughed and we continued chatting.

"Do you miss the small-town life?" she asked. "I know that the hustle and bustle of the big city can drive some people crazy, so it's perfectly alright if you wanna pack up and go home."

I thought about it for a second. I missed my home like crazy. The way Mama would always gather us rowdy kids inside for dinner and smack our hands if we reached out for food before prayer, and all my friends and I hanging around The Family Diner talking about the future like we were grownups. Now I feasted on instant noodles and was lucky to receive an email from anyone.

"Of course I miss home, you would have to drag me away to an insane asylum if I said I didn't, and I would go away willingly. I'll admit the first couple of days were nice, but when I had to go grocery shopping for the first time by myself, I wanted to hop onto the nearest train home."

"I hear ya when I first got here I had a panic attack when I first set foot in the subway stations."

We laughed at our shared anxiety and ended the call feeling closer than before.

I continued walking planning the project and workload, it was a lot, but Mama didn't raise a slacker.

I continued planning my schedule when I heard the most beautiful song in the world. I stopped. It was like honey; a sweet slow tune dripping through the air, it was like walking through a sunlit forest in the summer with soft rays of light sifting through the trees reminding you to take it slow, it was the feeling of floating down a river on a quiet afternoon.

I turned around looking for the source when I saw a man playing violin. I stood nearby and listened, swaying a bit. When he finished his symphony, I applauded and smiled.

"You're not from around here are you," he grinned.

"Is it that obvious?" I laughed.

"Well, most people don't just stop and listen to a bit of violin. They're more concerned with their busy lives and jobs that they don't take the time to slow down and really listen."

I looked around and saw that he was right, it seemed that I was the only person who stopped to listen.

"A shame, that piece was so beautiful, what's it called?"

"Oh it doesn't have a name yet, but I think it should be something slow and sweet."

"Did you write that?" I was astounded.

He grinned, "Yeah, it's good right?"

"Good? That was amazing, you're wasting your talents on these streets." I scoffed.

He held out his hand, "Daniel."

"Josie."

We shook hands and parted ways. Each day after that I watched him perform, tipping him each time. Sometimes I would walk to work early just to hear a bit more of his music. Somedays I would walk and be so enchanted that I would come to work late.

"Josie! Where have you been girl?" Sam yelled. "You were supposed to be here ages ago!"

"I walked, then I forgot something at home and had to run back and get it." I blushed.

It wasn't the exact truth, but I had the feeling that stopping to hear the music wasn't a good enough excuse.

"You might want to be on time next time, girl. I heard a little rumor that Marc is talking about firing you!" She whispered.

I panicked.

"You don't really think he would do you?"

"I don't know, this is the fifth time this week and even if he isn't a stickler for promptness, you still have to be here on time."

I groaned.

"What if I stayed late and put in some extra hours?"

Sam shrugged and went back to her station. I stayed late that night, and the next, and the next. I had thrown myself into my work and saw Daniel less and less.

One night I was trudging down the block to my apartment. It was late but everything was still buzzing with energy. I felt drained and exhausted from working late and just wanted to crash on my bed and relish in the sweet release of sleep.

"Josie?" a familiar voice called out.

I turned and saw him, Daniel packing up his violin.

I smiled and waved.

"Wow, that really is you. You look..." He frowned. "To be honest have you gotten hit with a bus recently?"

"Haha, no though a bus might be a welcome relief. I've just been picking up some extra hours in the hope that I won't lose my job."

He frowned with genuine concern in his eyes, "Are you taking some time for yourself? It can't be healthy to work yourself to death."

I shrugged chuckling lightly, "I don't know exactly how healthy it is but hey, I'm a sucker for food on my plate and a roof over my head."

He put a hand on my shoulder and smiled, "You're working yourself to death over a company who wouldn't hesitate to replace you if you dropped dead, you need to take it slow."

'I would love to but-" He cut me off.

"You stopped listening to the music and now look at you, you welcome being hit by a bus. Take it slow."

It was then that I felt this ice melt inside me, a wave of exhaustion practically knocked me off my feet

"Do you have one more song in you?" I asked.

He smiled, "For my favorite listener? A million songs."

And he took out his violin and played. He played upbeat ditties and slow, moving symphonies. He played melancholy songs and heartfelt ballads. Some songs he sang along with, his voice was wonderful. Some songs he urged me to sing along with my voice not as wonderful though he claimed it was gorgeous.

For the first time in weeks, I felt truly alive. I felt genuine happiness swell inside me and felt love fill my heat. The exhaustion faded as he played song after song and when he finally finished, I wept.

"Josie, love, you can't keep working yourself to the ground. Stop and hear the music from time to time." He smiled.

And every day after that we spent our days with each other working hard but still finding time to listen to the music. It became the best years of my life, even though I lost my job, even when my mama died, we found a way to make it through and smile. Daniel and I made our own music and smiled through it all with food on our plates, not those instant meals since Daniel could actually cook, and a roof above our heads, and love in our hearts.