His whole face is red, getting warmer with each passing moment. Beads of perspiration trickle down from the top of his forehead to his eye, his cheek, and drop off the edge of his chin. Behind all the sweat is the look of pure determination to achieve his ultimate goal.
His breathing gets heavier; his chest heaving in and out to accommodate for all the air intake. His fingers move ever so quickly that, to the untrained eye, it is all just a blur. His legs are weak- almost shaking trying to confine the anxiety.
‘Not long to go now’, he thinks as his eyes move swiftly onto the next segment, never letting them wander off for even a split second for fear of losing his place.
His palms are sweaty; his fingers begin to slip and slide. His breathing so heavy that it makes his head dizzy… hang in there just a bit longer… just a little longer… just one more line…
… and “FINISHED!” he yells with a triumphant smile spread across his red face, saxophone lowered, hands still shaky from all the movement.
“Well done! You really have been practicing every day! I can see the vast improvement! And that one was very long too.” his saxophone teacher compliments.
Proud with himself, he begins to lower his saxophone, tired and ready to pack up his music folder and go home.
“But let’s just go through that piece one more time to make sure you really have it under your belt.”