Malcolm may not have been to temple in weeks, but places such as this bar were his houses of worship; the stillness, the quiet, was one of reverence, patrons who came more for the experience than the liquor. In places like this, other people were incidental. Their oneness came in the quiet communion of experiencing the music together, appreciating it in silence, sharing without words the bliss of a perfect performance captured in this place like a hidden pearl within an oyster, secreted away only for the eyes of a small few.
