Though the story confuses me slightly, the empathy and sheer heart for music and the emotions it can bring carries this piece tenfold. The prose is delicious — each line a symphony, each word rising from the sea with brine from a whale-fall, polluting warmer depths with a bacteria never seen so high before. The four pieces — or are they notes, in truth? Each part of a greater whole — would be unwelcome, with their vagueness and detachment from reality, but I find myself opening my arms and ushering them in, for they are neither too long to overstay their welcome nor too abstract in their themes — the one with oil and the black-text that followed are particularly gorgeous.
All in all, a delicious work literizing (new word, you can't stop me) music, with synaethesia to boot. Tastes like creamy truffle chowder.
-Styg
What is life if not the contrast between what has been and what will become?