Music To My Ears
by Tina Traster
There we were, on our winter break vacation, driving to our hotel after a day of skiing in the Canadian Laurentians.
“I miss my violin,” Julia sighed, dreamily gazing out at the frozen tundra, not really talking to either my husband nor I. Just thinking out loud.
“Really?” I said, whipping my head around to the back seat.
“Yeah, I should have brought it with me,” she lamented. “I miss it.”