Renata would always remember her first experience of music. The vibrations came up through the hardwood floor in interleaving waves, so many at once yet merging together until they were almost indistinguishable, flows diverging and intersecting like water through her fingers. It sent a warm tingle through her entire body.

Kelly had purchased a grand Steinway with her husband when they moved into the house, and it still held pride of place in the center room. After her teaching job ended, she lacked the will to play and could not imagine teaching students again. She had always hoped that one of her proteges would wind up as a soloist in an acclaimed symphony orchestra. She dreamed of reading their bio in a program where they credited their achievement to the high expectations set by their high school music teacher. But that never cane to pass. Even her more talented students eventually gave up their music habit to start a family and make a living, just as she had done herself.

Watching Renata move through the world by touch alone, Kelly felt renewed gratitude for the simple fact she was able to play and appreciate the sound of music. She cleared the dirty box trays from the piano bench, and, for the first time in over a year, sat down at the Steinway and put her fingers to the keys.

Renata followed the stream of vibrations to where they converged beneath a curved, three-legged table. The vibrations traveled down the table's wooden legs to resonate along the floorboards. She would have never imagined something so ordinary could produce this remarkable, indescribable flux. It wasn't enough to experience it through her palms of her hand and soles of her feet. She struggled out of her one-piece and pulled off her diaper. Then she spread herself out spread-eagle on the floorboards, letting the waves ripple over her skin and ring in her bones.

Later she would come to learn the name of this fantastical device. Piano.