The Old Saxophone

Every Saturday morning, Oleg went to the tiny music shop on the corner. It sold old instruments: pianos, guitars, and one gold saxophone in the window.

Oleg used to play that saxophone, years ago. He used to play jazz in small clubs every night. Then his hands got tired, and he stopped. The saxophone sat in the window and waited.

A young musician worked in the shop. One Saturday, she took the saxophone down.

“Can you still play?” she asked.

“I used to,” Oleg said. “A long time ago.”

She put the saxophone in his hands. Oleg looked at it for a moment. Then he played one slow, warm song. It was not classical music. It was jazz, his jazz.

The young musician smiled and listened. The old saxophone was playing again, after all those quiet years. Every Saturday after that, Oleg came back and played. The shop was never quiet on a Saturday morning again.