The artist was singing a well-known song. In the dark hall of the Fillmore. I was tired, feeling old from not being able to bear loud noises.

A slow rhythm melody to the words I’ll put a spell on you… and he took me by my hand to waltz slowly. He stepped slowly due to blistered feet.

It reminded me of the movie Wicker Park of love, obsession and loss.

And I hear it today, moments of wistful yearning for the days I was in shielded darkness of naivete.