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Karen Truminelli
Out on the streets people jeer at you, humiliate you, ridicule you. Your trumpet playing is mediocre but it’s the spirit that counts. One night, when you head back to your home sweet bench, a drunk guy starts waddling towards you screaming that trumpets are the worst instruments. You’re offended. You clock him in the nose but he gets up fast and runs away. Did somebody see?


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