A Single Resonance

Silence. Then... warmth in the joints. My fingers moved, not by drift, but by will. I rested my left phalanges upon the fingerboard. The timber felt dry, patient. Slowly, my right wrist guided the bow against the lowest string. A low hum trembled through the hollow body of the instrument. It resonated inward, vibrating deep within my hollow ribs. Alive... at last. I paused, letting the final whisper of the note settle into the cool air.