I watched from the between as colors pulsed from Jack’s chest, traveled through his arms to his hands, and flowed into and then from the violin. Jack wasn’t simply playing music, he was creating it from his dreams and his heart, from his soul, and he was giving it to me. I caught the colors and wrapped them about myself like a cocoon, unsure what I would emerge as later, but I left room within so that when Jack’s song ended, he could join me inside.
