The space between the note is a curious reckoning that flows through the vains in my fingers. A symphony in my head. Silence is the beauty of a song. With every choice there comes more choices. In every silence between the notes theres is the moment of eternal silence and the ability to choose.

Twigs falling.
Static tv.
Golden amber leaves soaked in old raindrops.
Grey skys.
Wind is whistling.
Trees are breaking.
There is a storm coming.
Coming for all of us.
Booming thunder.
And then the sky falls and the light shines through.