[ IP ] Piper

No one knows where she came from, who her parents are, or where she's going. I've asked. 
 
 So now I just watch. *The Piper* they call her. 
 
 I'm not entirely sure, but I recall there use to be a `` Pied'' somewhere in there, if one is referring to the fairy tales. In any case, I'm a man of cheap thrills, and I know of several other *Pipers* in various back alleys that you can buy for the cost of a coffee and bagels. So, I just call her Catherine -- Cat, for short. 
 
 Speaking of cats... 
 
 Black, sleek ones. The ones that superstitious folks keep ladders and mirrors away from. Yes, *those* type of cats. Whenever she plays on her flute, they come out in droves and follow her, as if she's their Bast ( Ancient Egyptian Cat Goddess ). 
 
 Today she's on the tracks. The train tracks. I can see her from my outdoor table as I read through the newspaper. She's playing a peice that's more than exquisitely beautiful today. I put the paper down and listen. I have no choice; the music is simply too magical to resist. 
 
 She does n't hear it. Not at first. Nor do I. So lost in the magic are we. And by the time we do, it is far, far too late. 
 
 
 

