it seemed as though something wonderful had come and gone

Mother said she was sorry, but was calling because there'd been an accident. 

She wanted me to hear of my friend's death from a familiar voice. "A drunk 

driver," she said. "A doctor." I dressed as if in a slow dream and went down 

to wander the dark streets. Sometime later—it might have been minutes, it 

might have been hours—I heard reggae, and followed the sound back to an 

open window. I sat on the curb to listen. The night was warm and there was 

a slight breeze, a hint of morning in the sky. It seemed as though something 

wonderful had come and gone, a carnival perhaps. I'd arrived late, but at 

least there was still music. 

 

[Steve Mueske, 'Night Call', from Mnemonic for Desire]