It was Wednesday, one hour squashed between other hours and another appointment in a week filled with appointments. In the room, I and my ESL student, whose name is Karma, worked side-by-side on our own copies of the reading. The door to the hallway was closed. Through the wall, we heard a muted piano and, etched on top of that sound, a soprano voice. I counted 12 chairs around the table in our tiny room, and a chalkboard filled one wall and a window another.
view from room 4-146, Wednesday 11-10-2010 @ 10:55am
This was silence. This was luck. This was like the world saying, Be here now.
The hour was long enough.
leaf stitch word 
“Be here now.” Thanks for reminding me again.
Last year, there was a Berklee student who lived across the hall from me. He would play classical (?) piano nearly every night. Spoiled!
What a beautiful view out that window, too. Sounds like a truly lovely hour, indeed.