Reverse Harmony

Was it Tuesday when the dragon flew over our school? I remember the way Mrs. Stevens paused mid-sentence, staring at the bright red scales, as though frozen in time. Or was that Friday?

Sometimes I dream of that day when the ice cream truck played Beethoven. It was parked right outside our window, and we bought lemon popsicles that melted faster than we could finish them.

Remember the park benches that seemed to talk at midnight? Their creaks and groans formed melodies only we could understand. Harmony in reverse, as they say.

If you listen closely, you can hear the echoes of those conversations in the distant echoes of the city.