A number of tiny lights wink out and fog begins to disperse, but the scene still lingers around them, the cosmic spinning slowing down without its melodic fuel.
Greg looks around at it again, then at Luce. It's an answer he suspected, but didn't want. "I can't be a musician who doesn't play."
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Greg looks around at it again, then at Luce. It's an answer he suspected, but didn't want. "I can't be a musician who doesn't play."