i lifted the bow. my fingers came down rapidly, pounding away on the strings, the bow racing, and it was the happy song, the gay and free and happy song and it came unstintingly and bright and fine out of the violin, that I almost danced myself, pivoting, dipping, turning, yanked by the instrument, and only dimly out of the corner of my eye seeing them dance. i played and i played. the music poured forth.
- the violin
