Oskar Serti found nothing more enchanting than abandoning himself fully to music. Of course, on the evening of a concert he was always a bit worried that in his state of bliss he would literally spill onto his seat. To preserve a semblance of decorum, he would take particular care over his dress. A fortnight before a concert he would call on an outfitter to select a bow-tie, suit and shoes which would show his exterior appearance to the best advantage.
One particular evening, when he knew that the programme was likely to plunge him into sheer ecstasy, he dressed with the utmost care. Nonetheless, during his favourite piece, his foot caught his attention. It was tapping out the beat in a way that was completely unfamiliar to him. He looked at his hand—it was reacting strangely too. Serti felt overwhelmed by what was happening to him. It was as if the music were speaking to each of his limbs, and they were reacting each in their own way. Perhaps he had fastened his cufflinks too tightly, or his shoe-laces or his bow-tie; and the different parts of his body had seized this opportunity to do their own thing. He undid everything and finally recovered. But the emotion he just had experienced had perturbed him so much that sadly he was unable to get back into the music.
Next to him, in her light summer dress, his neighbour seemed to float along with the music; her body and soul seemingly at one.
Discreetly, Oskar Serti bent down to re-tie his shoe lace. Discreetly, he passed the lace round his neighbour's ankle, knowing that she was far too immersed in the music to notice someone trying to slip into her rapture.