Evening in the square arrived a little slower than usual. People stood by the kiosk with paper cups, watching the gramophone the way they watch a kettle that has not quite decided to sing.
The park keeper wound the handle once, then waited. We asked at the kiosk, and a woman with a bag of crumbs said the lullaby likes a full first row. Three sparrows settled on the nearest bench. A fourth hopped twice and sat. Only then did the record begin, soft enough that the lindens did not rustle over it.
A note in the keeper's book, written very small: Kindly do not clap. The left bench was still swaying.
By the next dusk the same sparrows were back early, brushing the seat with their wings as if to save places.