Avram Dehpour was beset with panic because his right hand

had frozen up, grown heavy, during a Schubert sonata, missing

several notes during the Andante, sending a soft murmur — accompanied

by hard biting coughs from angry throats — through the audience.

All was suddenly asunder, his command faltering, the normal alliance

between his skill, his talent, and what might be called

genius, broken.  The audience settled into a stunned silence.  An

aural black hole from which emerged a few more tight

coughs.  As most everyone already knows, his grand celebration, his

triumphant return from Moscow, was ruined.  His fingers grew heavy.

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Paraphrases from the story collection The Secret Goldfish by David Means.

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