Yesterday there came a strange chirping from the other side of my train car. I looked around to see what it was, but there were too many people between us, and I couldn't see anything to explain what I heard. It got louder as we pulled into Kendall and the sound of the train dulled, and I recognized the lazy whistle of a plastic recorder. It continued through Harvard Square, but I didn't know it had stopped until it was gone. I never saw the player. Was it a jaded street entertainer? A stoned old man? A first grader preparing for music class?
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