A Silent Rehearsal

I mounted the walnut writing desk to commence my evening score study, grateful to leave the park's chaotic breezes behind. Propping an open miniature volume of classical sheet music securely against a heavy brass paperweight, I positioned myself dead center upon the dark leather blotter. In the warm amber glow of the desk lamp, I raised both pliable upper limbs, carving four disciplined, angular beats of common time into the stillness. Not a single note was sounded aloud, yet the silence resonated with immaculate cadence. Solitary practice, when properly observed, requires absolute decorum.