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With three fingers clenched into a curved claw, I tried to pluck heaven out of Jane Bennett’s harp.
No rich, strong and angelic voices sang from the chord’s strings as I had imagined. Moments earlier, I had glided my pointer finger up the strings in a glissando like a child clumsily drags a stick across the bars of a fence.
My first harp lesson had lasted a total of five minutes, and I was already frustrated.
And strangely, kind of relaxed at the same time.
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