Ewan sat on the top stair surrounded by sparkles of dust floating in the ruby rays. The window seemed smaller. Ewan's growing years had been spent in this spot surveying the burgundy clad youth captured for ever in the richly coloured glass, imagining what thoughts were trapped within the glazed image. Music was the link. Ewan had been inspired by the perfect calmness of the features. He knew now. He
had been deceived. All the sacrificial years practising, wasted by
a driver's carelessness. Eventually Ewan decided. He leapt quickly towards the lute playing youth and into the space beyond him.