P(it)ch Perfect

by nicolecallihan

In his essay, thrilled with the violinist he had heard at Carnegie Hall, my student, Yoon, wrote of the violinist’s beauty and how she played in perfect “peach.” I like to think of Yoon in that big dark hall–an orchard all his own–and how leaving, he reeked of sticky sweetness, the kind so potent that hours later you smell it on your hands and remember.

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