How it began

Curt played a baroque flute now, but really he was a singer. He lost his range and couldn’t get church gigs anymore, even through he knew every Handel and Bach song by heart, and could do all the notation.
After he couldn’t get work in the churches around town, he decided to take up flute. He already knew classical flute and wanted a new challenge, so he took up baroque flute. At his age, this was a bold move.
He ordered his first one from Germany—hand made mahogany with a red toned finish.
All these years, his wife had wanted him to give up music and get a real job. And he had tried. He taught music theory for a while at the local community college. But after a year, he realized he really didn’t like teaching. He was a practitioner after all. He prided himself on being a real practitioner. So he returned to singing, until the accident.
He thought it was just age, but he had fallen off his bike one day and landed right on the front of his neck. Something had been damaged in his wind pipe. He went to the doctor, who said he had some internal bruising, but should be fine.
He wasn’t, by the next week, he had lost his upper register.
It never came back after that fall.
So he had to choose a new medium. He chose the baroque flute. It would take time to learn well, and he needed to meet someone who could accompany him as he did. A harpsichordist would be ideal.
So he put a notice up on line: “Looking for a harpsichordist to play baroque music with; if interested call Curt.”
A week later, a woman wrote him, and said she would adore playing baroque again. That music, especially baroque, was a passion she couldn’t let go of-it was her first love and passion. Where could they meet.
He still had access to the community college’s rehearsal hall. So he decided they meet there.
Three days later they did.
She was tall and had long black hair and high cheek bones and slavic eyes. She must be Czech or Russian he thought, as she walked in. Wow, she even looks baroque!
The rehearsal room had a harpsichord in the corner, and after introducing themselves, they decided to get right into playing.
Just then, right before they started playing, he got a text from his wife.
“If you return to music, I’m leaving.” Was all it said.
He took a deep breath, pulled out his new flute, and said to the tall woman—“Ok, where shall we begin?”