Mrs. Halloway rises from bed. The only other thing in the cell is her harp. It glows. She rubs the sleep from her eyes, sits down, snuggles up to the harp and fondles its strings. The harp’s sound vibrates with the desire to be destroyed. Destroy me, the harp begs. Mrs. Halloway stands and says, I will destroy you myself. She uses all her might to kick the harp to the ground. She proceeds to give the harp a thorough beating. When there is nothing left but a pile of dust and a few loose strings, Mrs. Halloway raises her arms up and roars. Om! The inmates in the next cell wake, open their eyes. Purple beams of light shine from the sockets where human eyes should have been. The prisoners try and fail to move; the shackles hold them firmly against the wall. Is the wall breathing? Has the floor dropped? Does the universe punish light? The entire prison starts to rattle and moan. A bloodthristy insect creeps in through a crack. After an eternity, the shackles dissolve; the prisoners bow down to kiss that crack. By now, Mrs. Halloway has finished reassembling the harp again. She strikes a chord that becomes the seed of sound for creating a new world.