Tragic notes hung in the air as the harpist’s delicate fingers plucked the last string. The assembled crowd, all men and women of proper breeding, stayed silent as they tried to hold on to the emotions bared by the lingering music. A deep sadness that bordered on grief caught them all in a thick web, and for a moment they were all united.
Troublesome children, debts, subpoenas, life ruining addictions to alcohol, cocaine, and some of the more difficult to find pornography, were muted in the wake of such wrenching music.

The harpist stood, her apparent age falling away as her mouth quirked into a victorious smile. Vibrant with life, she knew exactly what she had shared with her audience. She bowed once, a tight bob of her head; a queen to servants she had just done a favor for.

When the booing began, she was stunned. The smile slipped off like a fat man on a greased rope. Something was terribly wrong. Didn’t they understand?

The curtain that fell like a shroud was the perfect accompaniment for her tears.