The old Catholic school had a grandish outdoor entryway leading up the stairs to the front door. The stairway had excellent acoustics, and she sang there sometimes with her acoustic guitar and her sweet voice.

She told me she had gotten close enough to the music business to feel its complex, knotted, powerful badness, and music was good.

So she sang around town and around the county, getting occasional dribs and drabs of money. Having an okay job, mostly singing in the good acoustics public places, being a good surprise for visitors and a loving part of the routine for residents.

Talking to her, it was clear she was a good person. Talking to her she didn't seem psychogically super strong. But she knew where to be and where to not be. She knew how to save the goodness.