Music made manifest within a right hand and a left foot.
He sets his foot down upon the stop seeming to settle from one state to the next, begins to fiddle a melody with the right hand progressively more robustly accompanied by the left. It is as if this state was simply that which his body does or is. That the pleasant conversation we were previously having over coffee, lit agreeably with the soft light of the winter morning, required him, with some effort, to elevate himself above some musical mode which I now realize composes the very ground of his being. The home he now sinks into with an almost embodied sigh of submission.