living in Stuttgart, I had this fantasy, that my husband and I would stay in Europe and he would continue to be a musician and I would be a writer, and we would support each other in our work.
It was just that--a fantasy. We left Europe and support became a one-way street.
Yet last night I saw my fantasy in action, not in my couple, long since broken, but in a Swiss writer and her husband cellist, who have a house down the street from me. She read from her novel as he played the cello.
I had always enjoyed her writing (we exchange our latest publications), but I never heard the music of her words until spoken. With his music the world disappeared and it was only the two of them together, a magical moment. Only afterwards, did they confess he had forgotten the sheet music he had prepared and was totally improvising.
And if I could not live the fantasy, there is something reassuring knowing that such fantasties can become real life and can be shared.
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