My hamster Grover played his tiny violin while I dressed for work. I was running late and had already received two notices from human resources, so I didn’t have much time to spare.

Sure, other people would have stopped and listened to the little guy finish that chaconne by Bach, but I was tired of it, or so I wanted to think. I’d heard it a thousand times, coupled with Grover's loyal smile, a sweet serenity that decoded the vista of our universe. And his performance - it was as if he was holding a religious service - once again kneaded my soul into eternity. Melodies of fear, trepidation, and hope filled my spartan home like morning light. I had to ask myself how he became so talented, how such a small creature could express the sadness of a thousand men, and how I could only stand there and weep. But I suppose I didn’t really need an answer. The astonishment itself kept me at ease. I couldn’t think. I looked at the clock but it no longer made sense. Time was spinning backwards. I forgot my name, and my purpose, but I was at peace, if that’s the best way to put it, in a way that only Grover understood.

At work, I changed my screensaver to "3D Pipes."