We have an A. Ladies and Gentlemen. We have our first A.
Left thumb over the hole on the back. First two fingers on the top two holes. Three new moons. (Waxing crescent, gibbous, disseminating, balsamic fingers make not an A but a squeak, a squawk, a bat's cat call, an irresistible play dead to a deaf dog.)
And tight spastic fingers can do it. It takes longer. It's too clenched, too brittle, too first quarter for instant A.
But the A, when it happens, is sweeter.
But then, is there anything salty, lemon juice, deaf dog sweeter than a tumbled slightly farted room of seven and eight year olds having their first recorder lesson with the school's batshit crazy and very nice recorder aficionado?
Afterwards, pressed into the soft tip pad of the left thumb, the first two fingers, are three full moons.
Next week: G.
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