Urban Fictionary
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Urban Fictionary

Naked

So stood Times Square: empty but for the few locals in transit as attention-starved ads sheened and shimmered like the brilliant stars above a desert night in desperate competition for the attention of an audience below.

The odd native tourist-in-own-town stopped for a fleeting moment with smartphone in hand to memorialize what may be a similarly-fleeting emptiness.

The slow strut of cars was scarcely noise enough to smother the hum of the still-running subterranean subway, from which speaker voice could be heard on surface above.

Yet, loudest was a sound that stood out starkly like the crackles of a record playing: the gentle twanging dance of a guitar’s string strummed with studied fingers.

Like the Square, so too stood the Naked Cowboy, singing his song for no one to hear: tip jar below as empty as his silent stare ahead, eyes set past the empty streets to the better summers beyond and behind.

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Life, one daily, thinly-veiled allegorical, pop culture flash fiction story at a time.

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Frank Caron

Frank Caron

Helping software companies craft, connect, and communicate. In love with adding value, #product, #storytelling, #tech, #APIs. Reformed gamer. Writer at large.

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