"It's all in this noodle. Going around and around for days," he twirled her each time he spoke humming until he twirled them right next to the his antique piano. "Please sit my dear," he left her a spot beside him as his fingers glided down the keys. He had delicate hands. They were smooth, soft, fragile looking, almost the size of a young woman's. He had always been a tiny man in statue. In one look no one expected him to have any talent at all, but when he closed his eyes and began to play---that's when the magic happened.