Narration for Bach’s Partita in D Minor.

Cold, gray, Bulgarian streets.
Unexploded land mine accident
Drowning puppies
Spilled Milk
Breaking up with your girlfriend
Your mom dying.
Homeless vagabond with tears in his eyes
Orphans
Ruining Christmas
Cancer
The Thanksgiving poultry falling to the ground
The eastern bloc
Cossacks, ravaging the Polish countryside
The sinking of the last remaining dinghy
Surrender in the final battle
Your kid brother’s diagnosis of Tuberculosis
Morphine addiction
Woodland animals eating the fall harvest
The Smog from the local mill, blocking the light of the once cheerful sun
The lion cubs that lost their mother
Clubbing baby seals
The misunderstood Vietnam veteran
Sixteen Years Old
Losing Fido in the house inferno
Genocide
Never finding true love
The Children, never to show for you birthday party.
And finally, The most scrumptious scoop of ice cream falling off you ice cream cone in the park, as rain cloud conjures over your head, only your head, and rains. A single tear falls down you face and becomes lost in the raindrops below, as if never existent or cared for.

Fin.

Why do I feel as though zo a has missed something?

This is how all classical should feel and sound!

love hahn. still partial to perlman's version..

wow