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Visions of Jazz


I walked through a crowded city, completely unaware as to how or why I was there. A sea of grey, navy, and beige suits passed by me, the people wearing them were nothing more than silhouettes. I managed to stumble my way into a cozy café, still crowded, but at least I could find a mahogany table in the corner to hide away. The comforting smells of hazelnut and vanilla coffee calmed my nerves. I'm not sure how long I sat there, taking in the atmosphere, but I was immediately snapped out of my trance by a server placing a pastry and drink on my table.

In front of me was a flaky cherry turnover drizzled with cream cheese frosting and a mocha latte topped with a mound of black cocoa whipped cream. I had no memory of ordering the food, but it looked far too good to pass up. However, before I could enjoy the alluring meal, something stuck out to me in the café: the music. I don't know how I didn't notice it before, as it was so loud and vibrant that it seemed inescapable. Maybe the same jazzy rhythms were playing out there in whatever city I found myself in, just muffled by the hustle and bustle. Another reason I was surprised I hadn't picked up on the music before was because I had a gut feeling I knew the song, but no matter how much I clawed through the depths of my mind, I couldn't name it. As I bit into my turnover, my vision slowly faded until darkness claimed me to the sounds of a blaring saxophone.


I found myself in my living room. The only light emanating was from my laptop, which displayed a half-written essay about the dangers libraries currently face. On my lap sat my grey and hazel tabby Scarlet, dreaming just as I was moments ago. Next to Scarlet was my weathered Samsung, the smooth jazz playlist I made to help me focus must've looped God knows how many times while I was dozing. I drowsily got up from my matte green couch and fumbled my way to the light switch. As I did, I could hear Scarlet's annoyed chirp at having his sleep interrupted. I went to the kitchen to heat up the chicken and rice I cooked earlier, contemplating the bizarre dream I just experienced as well as how much time I had to finish my paper before it was due in class.


After setting my alarm to 6, I headed off to bed, wondering if I would once again be back at that café.

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