The Greatest Busk Ever Told

Took a walk up through the town at lunchtime today (far too nice a day not to, and it's not going to last according to the meteorological doomsayers). It's been a while since I'd done that and it was quite depressing at how run down and horrible the whole place looked and felt, even in the blistering sunshine. The busiest shop was a back-street bakers that had a line of pensioners queuing on the pavement discussing the price of bread and how they hoped there was some left when they got to the front of the queue. Checked my watch to see if I'd inadvertently slipped behind the Iron Curtain to 1980.

I'd hate to see the place when it's pissing down with rain and proper miserable (that'll be tomorrow then).

Anyhow, this guy belting out some Thin Lizzy in the underpass caught my ear and my eye. Seemed to be attracting some divine spotlight action as he strummed away too.

"Truly, this man was the busker of God" I heard John Wayne drawl in my head when I checked it back on the screen.