whenever he leaves a room, it takes on the stickiest possible smell of fish. my teacher once referred to him as "the scuzzy violin guy" so i call him "scuzzy fish guy" and people seem to know who i'm talking about. he likes the way i play bach.

the first time i learned this was one night over the summer, when i was farting around with the f minor keyboard concerto. he walked in with his violin and mysteriously omnipresent grocery bag and began exclaiming. he talked with a vacant enthusiasm about the mysterious "ancient minors" and it was strictly upon his exit that the room took on the smell of fish.

several weeks ago, i was practicing again and heard the crackling of a paper bag outside the practice room door. i finish the second fugue from the e minor toccata. he walks in and exclaims, questions, declares. he leaves and the fish come in.

last night, i'm having break-throughs. i get it, this, these things, how it should swell and prick and that strong is not heavy and all of these things and the world just scintillates. i'm feeling totally brilliant. i've caught the spirit. he walks in.

"what is that? e minor?"
"second fugue."
"yeah. interesting."

and then he leaves. interesting? where are the exclamations?

i thought i was playing really well! he leaves me with the fish and a general perplexion.