She got younger looking every day as the swelling dropped. She just didn’t look like herself. Every time she came into a room I was in I would look ...t her, different. But my mind began to adjust. She never talked about the problems with her left arm, it hung mostly useless in the shoulder straps that she wore. I could see her fingers, they never really moved, and looked blue and dead somehow. But one day I saw the festering on her wrist. I knew exactly what that was, once I saw it. But then I. I couldn't take it any longer; I had to see the musician behind the music that was slowly turning me on in the abandoned, dimly lit hallway.Gently, I opened the door to the recital hall. Just a crack. In the middle of the harshly lit stage stood perhaps the best-looking man ever to walk the face of the earth. His dark blond hair skimmed the top of his shoulders, and an adorable dimple flashed on his left cheek as he took a breath between phrases of the music."Oh my God," I mouthed to myself,. More

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