The first few notes played at the final orchestra concert of the school year.
We were kicking off the concert with a Haydn excerpt.
I looked at my score and focused on what notes to play harder than a theology student trying to get their degree in divinity.
Those notes from my violin soared even with little old me being a second chair musician in my section.
The piece was over and people applauded.
After wiping the sweat over my brow I noticed that there was a girl smiling in the audience who wore a fancy blue blouse with a matching skirt.
Corinne?
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 