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The note was low, a tectonic shift that rattled the glass jars of bridge pins on the shelves. Then he played a scale. Then a fragment of the Bach Suite his grandfather loved. The shop seemed to expand. The dust motes danced in time. For a moment, the debt, the cramped apartment, and the grief disappeared into the vibration against his chest.

He sat. He tucked the cello between his knees. The familiar weight felt like a punch to the gut. He drew the bow across the C-string. we buy instruments

The woman nodded. She reached into a drawer, pulled out a "Closed" sign, and flipped it toward the window. The note was low, a tectonic shift that

The woman pointed a screwdriver at a velvet-lined stool. "Open it." The note was low