The Butterfly & The Snail

Chapter One: Sing A New Song
Salzburg, Austria: July 1, 1964
A hush fell over the room. Immediately, a voice, passionate and pure, rose high, kissing the rafters, filling the room with a soft stream of lyrics:
"Thi..lawee. lek .fee. . nehroi. . yeh hahfeen. ."
The guitar began quietly, then the drum entered with definitive Middle-Eastern quarter tones, not overwhelming, but blending with the tenor's voice that achieved the highest notes with remarkable ease.
The notes-fairies dancing atop a puff of air-wove lithely among the crowded tables until they found the shy red-haired young woman standing alone in the entranceway. Students and teachers clustered around tables blocked the woman's view of the singer at the far end of the social room. Even standing on her toes, she could see only the tips of the musicians' heads.
The song caressed the young woman with tenderness, encircled her, held her in its arms, drew her into the room, guided her between the tables, lingering with her until she sat at a small empty table close to the others, yet still detached.
Notes exploded like silvery fireworks, first into a spectacular crescendo, then sprinkled like fairy dust onto the sea of rapt faces. The final whispered note hung in its purity for an eternity, then softly dissolved into the stillness of the night.