On this evening in the middle of Wold War II, a serenade is about to begin. It's minutes away. If you listen closely you can hear a window scraping open, a fresh reed being inserted into a woodwind's mouthpiece. The music which started everything and on which, you could say, my entire existence depended, is on its way.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Middlesex - Pg 168
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