9:50 p.m. Ablah Library. Finish research report. Settle into chair. Headphones on.

Transcribe last interview for report. Focus.

“Freude! schoener Goetterfunken.”

Type: Type.

Open Word. Open 17-page document. Three days, 15 hours on paper. Some sleep. Not enough.

Why am I nervous?

“Seid umschlungen, Millionen! Diesen Kuss der ganzen Welt!”

Mind races. Paper is ready. Focus. Only need to transcribe last interview. Hour of work left.

Proud of paper; worked hard; looks professional: title page, abstract, table of contents; professional work; page limit five to six; I have 17, I have 17 pages; work should be rewarded; professor should reward work, ability, mind; if I don’t receive an A; if I don’t receive an A…

Music to focus: classical. Beethoven. YouTube. Headphones. In. On.

Focus. Block out distractions. Stare into screen. Posture like question mark. In own world.

Interview recorded on iPhone.

Take out headphones. iPhone. Play. Voice comes alive.

Type. Halfway. Complete. What is that noise?

“Freude trinken alle Wesen! An den Bruesten der Natur!”

Other people. In library. Not noticed. Own world. Music comes from head. Voice comes from headphones.

Stop. Type. Look. Listen: a muffled sound.

Wait.

Open browser. Tab. YouTube. Red bar. Alive. Gray dot moves across screen like kidney stone.

Headphones off.

“IN DER GROSSEN WELTENUHR! BLUMEN LOCKT SIE AUS DEN KEIMEN!”

From computer. To library. Full volume. Music. Chorus. Voices. Celebration of joy.

Heart stops. Clinch. Realize: through headphones nothing. Through computer everything.

“Zu der Tugend steilem Huegel! Leitet sie des Dulders Bahn!”

Embarrassment. Fear. Nervous. Hurriedly, press pause.

Hesitate to look up. To meet eyes, smirks of students.

Students. Who would be embarrassed, but not wanting to tell. Or others. Who would be amused, and waiting to watch.

Mind races. Creates own world. Imagined reactions.

Look up.

Ten to 15 students. Staring into computers. Ablah Library. 10 p.m. In worlds created by their choices, responsibilities.

All of them. With headphones. On. Plugged in. Their work. Their stress. Their life.

Nobody heard.

Relief fills my body, like warm water.

No way for them to hear my music, to hear it grow and then die in the hum of computers, the scratch of shuffled papers and the coughs and whispers of students.

No way for them to hear or notice my embarrassment, and watch suffering turn to joy.