As the black man with the raspy voice lays out a mellow tune on his old piano, Jim Morrison plays the trumpet.
It's not a bright flashy place, but a jazz club with lounges and air line attendents serve at the bar.
"Jazz it up" cries the old black man with raspy voice as he laughs away playin the piano.
Then melodious like the wind in comes the soothing voice of an angel. She slides in her words between the keys of the piano and laughs of the man.
Her sweet voice holds no true comfort for anyone in the club. The only assurance one can have is that when they look in the mirror that will always be with them.
Her words ring true like the cries of an angel, a seraph of great power who cannot use it. The power of the seraph is knowledge, for one who does not know does not hold true being in this world.
As the trumpet of Jim Morrison picks up, so too does the pace of the womans words. "Your troubles can be gone tomorrow", she said, "but the memories stay with you forever".
A warm beat moves through as the piano fades to a nothingness, and all that is left is the black man smiling - satisfied he created worth, and through this worth he created satisfaction.
Joe Stranger walks in, he makes no noise despite his wild actions. All that is around is the mellow cruise of a soft, warm beat and the beauty of a womans voice.
All who hear the seraphic tone, the softness of her words feel at ease.