Symphony of Dreams

I sat alone as the concertmaster struck the familiar note. The resonance that followed consumed the entire empty room, and the utter perfection in the tone took me by surprise. I gladly embraced the rich sound of the tuning symphony. Even this was music to my ears-- but what purpose was there in tuning such perfect unity of pitch? And what was that peculiar absence of that common courtesy which should accompany this man's bow? These minor queries were very soon discarded, and then forgotten completely as the simple harmonies separated. They multiplied beyond comprehension, cascading into an illustrious, soaring melody! It was as if I had always known-- but nevermind that. Uplifting this glorious tune was an unmatched arrangement of simple, elegant chords firing off between sections. With the utmost brilliance, the brass fanfare launched the masterpiece into the stunning free fall, the absolute silence, just before-- and what WAS that repulsive noise? It had ruined my perfect stillness, completely foreign to that stage, yet eerily familiar and impossibly more tangible...

My vision flickers in the vaguely sunlit room. I sit alone: my only comfort afforded by the disconcerting demand emanating from my most alarming possession.