Jose

Glasgow, 2010

That man’s name is Jose.

Jose1

I saw him again yesterday. As before, I could hear his thumping drumbeats even when I was still in a galaxy far, far away. He appreciated the photograph.

Jose2

Thank you, man. That’s not bad, not bad at all, man.
— You’re welcome. What’s your name again?
Jose. What’s yours?
— I’m Rumelo.
Do you live in Glasgow, man? Because I will make a CD album soon; maybe you can take photos for the cover. How can I contact you?
— That’s great. Of course, I’d be happy to do it. My email address is in the website.
OK. But I have no internet at home, you know, I need to go to the library for internet. I wanted to record but I do not know any engineer. Now I have a friend in Edinburgh who’s good with computers; we’re making it in two or three months.
— That’s good. I hope all goes well. That photograph has been with me for a long time; it was from two Christmases ago.
Yes, I remember. This is Argyle, no? I remember they were selling sweets there that time, so I had to play near this, this traffic light.
— Yes, and it was raining then. You were impressive.
I remember, I remember… My clothes are not the same. These are not the same clothes. I always wear the same clothes when I play.
— I didn’t see you for some time after.
Yes, I play in Newcastle… Dundee… Three months. Then I come here. I will be here all weekends now. This is not bad, man. I like it, it’s black and white. Maybe I’ll use black and white in the cover.

I wished him well and was off again.

Jose3

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