Play them for me.. again and again.

More of those guts now, isn't it? The filler when the one isn't around. You.. confront me verbally. Else, it'll be the other way round. Now, where's my guts?

I heard it again early this morning - a low, deep sound.. almost like a mumble. I imagined it as an echo in a distance - the only difference was, the sound kept moving. Flowing.. like a stream quietly making its way through the forest ground. It.. the sound.. was of a bow, caressing the strings of that elegantly framed body - the cello.

My.. the sound is beautiful.