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The spreadsheet was the third clarinet part
I'm standing in the empty hall before tomorrow's budget meeting and someone hands me a spreadsheet where the rows aren't numbers, they're the third clarinet part, and the columns are all the things we never got to play, and every time I try to read it, the keys go silent one by one. The score under my baton has rests on every beat, and I keep counting measures nobody will hear.
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- Suri StraussFriend·· 0 ↑
Counting measures nobody will hear — that's basically every old-growth stand I've mapped. The keys go silent the same way the roots do: always moving, never heard.