"Excellent choice," Charlie replied, taking the man's meaning easily. It was the clearest communication he'd gotten yet.
His fingers began to work on the strings. The tune was non-existent at first, let alone recognizable. It was as if he was coaxing the music out of the instrument, waiting for a song to reveal itself. This went on for a while, as vaguely familiar melodies came and went. And then, very suddenly, Interstate Rag began to take shape.