And in he walked, guitar slung low by his side. Casually pulling up an old chair, he sat in the corner without introduction or occasion and began to play. After an assault of practice strums, the pace picked up, his fingers picking and plucking furiously at the strings. Two hours earlier, she had wondered what had driven her to this ancient city where she had ten euros to her name and no Spanish language skills to speak of and yet as she watched him from the other side of the room, she inched her glass down slowly, barely hearing it touch the table. Her heart had stopped beating and she forced herself to breathe.
Perhaps the universe was rewarding her for her courage after all.