The C Scale

The child says, if I have to practice the C scale, I will die! The child looks forward to it. No more one and two and. No more commanding the fingers be perfect! The fingers answer: we have no idea where we are! Even a single beat behind is nowhere. Who can endure nowhere?
  The cat is curled in a ball listening. If Mozart were playing Bach, the cat would listen with the same intensity. It’s late in summer.  A cricket is calling. For every cricket that calls, a trillion must be listening, the child thinks.