We prepare. Rarely is anything spoken. So much has already passed between us. Unfinished sentences litter preparation. Words discarded; unnecessary, inadequate. Ideas agreed upon, seemingly before they even exist between us; unspoken, soundless, clearly heard. The Accompanist is entwined; sinew and spirit, around me; my accompanist, my companion, our song. We begin. Fingers quiver above the keys. They are already accompanying the chords not yet eng aged, not yet struck. I br