Under the defiant gaze of the dragons in the diagonal ribs above her head, spitting fire from their mouths and teeth, doubt was beginning to gather strength; and while the great animals were fighting desperately, she waited quietly for the moment she would read along her own piece, the one that shows what her soul would be like, full of sounds and scents. Sweet odors of life, laden with mystery.
That one where each note, one by one would reflect a feeling, a passion and most likely would be composed for strings.
That soft light, in those quiet hours, the silence of the place, there her thoughts wondered sweetly, with a certain yearning wistfulness in her eyes, she had got the habit of silence, anyway...
So let her be waiting...