Pan and I spend hours waiting in the emergency room for a scan he has to do and while I’ve done more exciting and pressing things in my life, I’d also rather know that my best friend is okay. I am writing this on my phone in the emergency room and thinking back to all the times my piano students had trouble sight reading. Ironic, but I really liked the non technique parts of a music exam—sight reading, ear testing, clapping, you name it. It felt like a game to me.
They call it a Cabaret, where people sit at tables in front of the stage and are encouraged to eat and chat, between all the singing. On each table, there is a fat white candle in a glass holder and little coloured rocks scattered around it, with a small plate of sweet snacks.
I walk over to a table where some of my old friends are sitting, and they welcome me with a small fuss.
We chat about little things that will become important details that we remember about each other when we leave.
One guy turns to my friend and says, “I got something for you.”