Orfeo

by Richard Powers

was waiting for him when he reached it, almost as if he’d envisioned it all along. Teasing out the

Oh, shit. Her hand rose and her eyes widened. You were composing. In DNA? It did sound ludicrous. But what was music, ever,

I never should have left you and Sara for music. Even to change the world.

Almost every tune that the world had to offer would forever be heard by almost no one. And that fact gladdened him more than anything he’d ever written.

I was trying to put music files into living cells.

But this love, Love, has no finish line.