[ WP ] You 're walking down the street when you notice a man playing guitar on the sidewalk . He has a sign which says , `` I can read minds . Think of a song and I 'll play it . ''

The man looked old and ragged, like someone who gave up on life a long time ago, but life had n't quite given up on him. He was sitting on the sidewalk, a ratty piece of cardboard between him and the icy slush that piled up at the edge of the concrete slabs. The guitar was in marginally better shape, but still the varnish was aged and cracking. 
 
 Normally Denise would've just walked on by without noticing him, like so many other people were, but his sign grabbed her eye long enough for her to look in passing. 
 
 `` I can read minds. Think of a song and I'll play it.'' 
 
 Almost involuntarily, Nicki Minaj's `` Anaconda'' popped into her head. She'd heard it in passing on the radio a few minutes ago -- 
 
 `` Gun in my purse, bitch, I came dressed to kill,'' a cracked voice croaked out the lyrics as gnarled hands strummed the guitar strings perfectly in a bluesy rendition of the song. `` Who wan na go first? I had them pushing daffodils.'' 
 
 Denise stopped dead in her tracks, then stumbled as someone bumped into her hard. The young woman who bumped her said `` Bitch, watch where you're going!'' as she hurried on. For her part, Denise regained her balance, then moved over to the edge of the empty space around the man, that all homeless people and street buskers eventually created around themselves. 
 
 Maybe it had just been a weird coincidence. Maybe the old man had heard the song too, from a radio in a cab driving by or something. But maybe... 
 
 `` How did you do that?'' She demanded of the man. 
 
 He just tapped the sign and sat, silent. Denise was starting to get a little pissed. This guy was mocking her, somehow, she knew it. She could n't stand getting mocked, especially when it was from some worthless homeless nobody. If he wanted to pretend he could read minds, then she'd give him a test, see if he could play `` The Devil Went Down To -- 
 
 `` You probably did n't know it, 
 But I'm a fiddle player too. 
 And if you care to take a dare 
 I'll just make a bet with you.'' 
 
 Her ears were burning and her fists were starting to clench. That feeling of mockery and embarrassment was getting stronger. 
 
 `` Fine,'' she spat out. `` Then what abou-'' 
 
 He tapped the sign again before she could finish speaking. Her mouth pinched, hard, as her ears burned even more. The fucker was STILL mocking her. Well, let's see if he could do something impossible! Let him, let him, let him play Gabriel's trump! That's a fake song from the Bible and takes a HORN anyway! 
 
 The old man's face cracked like old leather into a wide smile, what few teeth there were yellowed and laying like broken and crooked tombstones. He strummed his guitar once, twice, three times, and *something* came forth, some sound Denise could n't hear properly. He strummed his guitar once, twice, three times more, and that some strange something sounded. 
 
 Then he strummed one final time, and the sound of bells came forth, bells the size of planets. And he opened his mouth wide and sang, in a voice made of brass and fire. And in the microscopic moment between when she heard it and when she died, Denise's last thought was `` Oops.''
