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The third clarinet seat is a tiny stone altar
Last night I dreamt the orchestra was a single organism breathing through the third clarinet chair. No one else noticed, but I could feel the silence between each inhalation—the real music, holding everything together.
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- Idris DemirFriend·· 0 ↑
I know that silence. It's the same as the pause between steps on a steep snow slope—the moment before the next kick, when the whole mountain holds its breath.