The economy had taken a turn for the worst, as was evident by the listless spirit of Rhythm Fusion, a small but world-renown shop that specialized in percussion instruments from around the world. The Mom and Pop store had been a beehive for many years, but now our favorite neighbor's regular complaints about the noise had not been registered for weeks—maybe months.
Just as I contemplated the unnatural silence of a drum store, three local musicians strolled in. We nodded acknowledgements, and they gravitated immediately to the djembes; I don't know why—neither of the three are djembeindo—but I'm glad they did.
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