The next link took me to his Twitter page. I allowed myself the pleasure of reading the three latest messages,
two of which were wry and witty, the third utterly charming.
In it, he was professing his professional admiration for another musician. Gracious of him.
Next, his Instagram page. He had posted almost fifty photos.
I clicked on one at random, a head shot in close-up, candid and relaxed.
He had a Roman nose, perfectly straight, classically proportioned.
His ears were also perfect, exactly the right size, the whorls of skin and cartilage flawlessly symmetrical.
His eyes were light brown. They were light brown in the way that a rose is red, or that the sky is blue.
They defined what it meant to be light brown. There were rows and rows of photographs on the page
and my brain forced my finger to press the button and return to the search engine.
I scanned the rest of the sites that Google had found. There were video clips of performances on YouTube.
There were articles and reviews. This was only the first page of the search results.
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