Countess-Jellybean

A single string vibrates in the emptiness of the auditorium. The audience left an hour ago, and the acts not long after. The single note hovers in the air for longer than possible, filling the darkness with something between a sound and a feeling; something which is in itself part of the soul, before  fading into the black. Again a single string is played, and then another. The fingers caress them with the grace and care of a lover. A melody begins to unfold. The single notes merge, melting together to become one fluid mass which is at once everything and nothing. This is the work of a man who has taught himself – he is not bound by th