[piano pieces rest]
the days are going into each other. time is passing speeding my head is pulled back by the wind in my hair. i walked briskly my hands cold i made it knowing i was in store for some good presence. the hall creaked and we sat our shoulders side by side the audience as the music spun out beautifully. one of the violinists his eyebrows moved with the tones his face so serious. the quartet reminded me of fish their bows swimming upstream. then he dumped a bag of ping pong balls into the piano.
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