Amanda moved towards the stereo.
Steve sat back in the middle of a
black leather two-seater. He was now visibly
nervous. To him, it didn’t feel right.
Amanda selected a John Coltrane CD
from her modest collection of no more
than a dozen albums. The late night wash
of saxophone, coffee and port seemed to
ease Steve somewhat. Amanda chose to sit
opposite him on an oversized black leather
“This is my favourite jazz album”, Amanda
noted. “In fact – it’s my only one”.
“Yeah. Good”, was Steve’s honest, simple
“Actually I don’t know much about music at all” Amanda
continued, feeling now that she had to talk. “But remember
that guy Sam from school?”
Steve nodded, though in truth he was
unsure, in fact, was hardly listening.
“Well, anyway”, Amanda picked up, “that guy
knew it all! Thought he did, at least! I wasn’t so much
friends with him, as he was with me if you know what
I mean? But I did get one good thing from him
I spose, this album! Oh that sounds rude doesn’t it?”
“Nonsense”, said Steve – finally
growing in confidence, “it’s a truly