My Life Was a Novel for About Five Minutes

I got on the bus last night to take a trek to Amoeba Music in the Haight. On the bus was a man quietly playing a guitar. The guitar music made a usually mundane and ugly thing into a beautiful thing. And then the novel came to an end – The man with the guitar got off of the bus.

I think maybe if I followed the man off of the bus the novel may have continued. But something bad may have eventually happened to the main character. I’ll save my novel for another day.