If you just get your fingers moving, something may flow out, pop out, something you didn't even know was in you. Was flowing through your veins. Was running through your mind. You will never know until you sit awhile and let your fingers roam, pretty much at random, across the keys.
And for a moment, I saw the end of a golden afternoon on the savannah. The dust blew among man-high shrubs and settled in the mane of the lion resting there. He sniffed the wind. Huffed and chuffed and rumbled to the lionesses who were nudging their cubs up to the protection of the rocks.
Down below, dinner was gathering for an evening drink.
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