Alone Among Many

By Larry S. Cunningham

There is something magical about how the mind works. Not only can I recall the opening refrain of Duke Ellington’s moving song “In My Solitude” at will, but I can hear it in my head in the haunting vocal version of Billie Holiday. When recalling that music I often simultaneously think of a scene from a long-forgotten movie in which a man sits alone in a bedroom of a cheap hotel in the evening, smoking a cigarette near an open window while, across the street, a red neon sign announces a “café.” The café, I am sure, would look exactly the way Edward Hopper would paint it (as in his famous “Night Hawks”).…

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