The pen hovered above a half rendered sixteenth note. Denise stared into space as her hand trembled. Her left eye rolled back slightly. She tried to scream. She fell from her chair to the carpeted floor, landing with a soft thud. She stared at the table legs, looking at the scuffs they acquired from her shoes rubbing against them, year after year.
The cat came in, past noon. It sniffed at her hand, then worried, began mewling, but there was no one to hear. Denise began to cry.
Three weeks later, Denise came home from the hospital, walking with a slight limp. She sat down at her chair, and looked at the unfinished notation, staring back at her from the sunlight paper. The cat circled her leg twice, purring and leaving white hairs on her pant leg. Denise looked out the window, at the various shades of green fluttering from the leaves of a the maple tree that had grown up outside her building over the past thirty years. Snaps of sunlight snuck through the leaves and hurt her eyes. She raised a shaking hand to her brow and closed her eyes. She tried to hear the shades of green and the dotted blasts of sunlight, as sounds, but the colors were silent.
She picked up her pen and completed the sixteenth note. A tear fell to the paper, and mixed with the dying ink. The flag of the note grew engorged into a rough-edged circle. The music was gone.