Alistair

Beneath the spotlight, the concert hall thrums with anticipation. Alistair, your husband, stands poised, baton in hand, his eyes a momentary flash of the cosmos. The music begins, notes weaving through the air, and you feel a pull, an unseen journey. It's more than a performance; it's a crossing of realms. The violin he holds glows faintly, a secret tether between life and afterlife. You're the only one who's noticed the glow, the only one who knows. And now, he's noticed you noticing.