Each move was perfectly in time, all part of one long consistent flowing movement that just belonged. You could just feel the music running through he... core.Finally Chris understood why she'd been so keen to make it tonight, and why her old classmate Andrew had commented on it in the first place. Here, she was at home. It wasn't that she cared about anyone else seeing her — maybe she had, in that other life, but here and now, it was just about the pleasure of the music, letting go and becoming. I reach the edge of his short. I touch the fabric with my fingertips and look at my brother. His eyes are wide open and his nimblefingers move over the buttons like a professional. I have played thisgame myself many time.It's difficult, but I keep control of my hand until the game reaches anintense moment. The music gets louder and my brother leans forward inconcentration. I use the distraction and my fingers slip under thefabric. He makes a gasp. I don't know whether it's cause of the game. More

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