Hear the Music, Listen

Hattie goes on fiddling with the snow globe, blowing raspberries and murmuring "Rosebud" sarcastically. You are about to head back topside when you hear it.

It could be those mermaids singing, or some whale opera passing through the hull, or maybe Garcia's ghost trying out his new bagpipes at the center of the earth. Whatever it is, the sound is rich beyond imagining, every note pulsing with more nuance and content than the average human brain soaks up in a lifetime. All of it goes sluicing into your empty head, filling it up with astonishing visions and harmonies, with notions and emotions yet undreamt.

"I'll never be the same," you protest.

"So," Hattie laughs. "Who ever is?"