My name is Kelly and I play to low. Strum, Strum, Strum. I have been coming to this park for four years now to play my guitar. I often stop at my favorite bench and play music. People hardly even notice I'm here. What am I even playing for? Why do I keep coming back to this same tired place? The leaves on the ground are beautiful and it smells like fall. Perhaps it is about to be fall. Thanksgiving! I don't know why I didn't clean the bench off before sitting on it I must be sad or out of it today. Perhaps I am waiting for my long lost lover. We use to come to the park together but he never shows up.