The space between the notes

Last night I caught myself reaching for the next piece before the last note had quite disappeared. I left my hand where it was and listened to the room instead. There was the faint sound of traffic, a chair settling, and something of the music still hovering in my attention.

I cannot say that this made me a better listener. It simply gave the ending a little more room. Today, that pause is the part I remember most clearly: the curious feeling that a phrase can finish while the experience of hearing it carries on.