Travelling Companion

The tea shop offered a quiet refuge from the noise of the city outside it's doors. A few people were scattered at the tables in the front of the shop, their eyes focused on their laptops or phones. Quiet ruled. She walked up to the counter and introduced herself as the musical entertainment for the evening. The young guy behind the counter looked at her, nodded, and asked if she needed more than a chair or stool. "A stool will be fine". she answered.
Opening up her guitar case she thought back to the first time she performed with him. They had met in college at the student center one evening; she was studying for a statistics test and he basic law. They had seen each other on the small campus but had no classes together. He asked if he could share her table and she agreed. They studied across from each other for almost an hour until he broke the silence.
"Coffee?'
"Umm, sure. With cream," she paused. "Thanks."
As they sipped their drinks, they made small talk. They both played guitar. She played folk songs on an acoustic; he played the blues.They agreed to see each other the following night. And the next.
They quickly became a couple. She sat and listened when he practiced with his friends. Later, after practice, they would play together, slowly blending folk and blues together -- creating a sound born of them. Friends were impressed when they played their music at gatherings on campus in the evenings. Full O'Beanz, the local coffee shop, let them perform for several Saturday nights. Soon after, they were performing at several small clubs from Stillwater to Onalaska on the weekends. For 2 years, life was a sweet adventure on the road, travelling together, performing together, even checking out laundromats together. Life on the road became hell when both started to take the other for granted and occasionally flirt with a member of the audience. Jealousy became their travelling companion. In Diamond Bluff, they played their last gig together and went their separate ways. Both completed their senior year while carefully avoiding each other on campus.
Graduate school became her life and was a balm after the previous year but eventually the call of music swelled within her and now here she was, singing and playing to a live audience again. Well, maybe only to 5 people who were all here for a reason other than listening to her. She settled in on the stool, started strumming her guitar, and sang to no one in particular, "Shot down like Katie Barker, in death misunderstood, oh for life to harken, back to what was good..."