Charlie Mingus and Miles Davis sat at a long table eating breakfast. Standing across the room from them, John Coltrane was looking out of a window watching black birds circling a tree plucking and eating inch worms hanging from its branches. Charlie Parker was sleeping in the corner.
A small black and white kitten, who had been sleeping under the table, woke and hopped up on the table looking for food. Mingus and Davis started arguing over who should hold and feed the kitten. The arguement grew into pushing and yelling and finally rdawn swords.
Parker finally woke up. He stood up stretching and yawing, and then walked over to table drawing his sword and cuting the kitten in half and walked out of the room.
Later that afternoon Monk arrived back at the monestery having spent the morning on the Brooklyn Bridge listen to Sonny Rollins playing on the Manhattan Bridge. Mingus and Davis tell Monk about the kitten and Parker. Monk looks at them and then picks up a plate and places it on his head and then walks out of the room.
Coltrane looks from the window and saying: “Too bad Monk was not here this morning, if he had been the kitten would be alive.”
There is something so beautiful about number and their patterns. Go to God plays Dice and read the post about the Colatz conjecture.
Now I am not saying I understand everything Isabel wrote but its magical.