Pausing between beats Lucil became the Lorelei in a whole other century. After teasing a river sailor with the promise of a kiss she stepped down from the rocks and borrowed his boat, steering it along the Rhine until the far off sound of festivities floated to her ears. She saw the tent of a biergarten, abandoned the boat and went inside, beginning a silent hum under her breath, letting it grow louder into words as those near her paused, raised their eyes from their bier steins and began to notice her. The party chatter and bier talk died down as her tones floated to the far corners of the tent. All were silent, except Lucil, and every ear listened to her sing. They heard music like the happy ends of the fairy tales they had known as a child. They listened while the waves of the Rhine lapped lazily at the shore. The bier had been heaven, but this was like being in love the first time again. No one wanted it to end. In one corner of the tent sat Beethoven himself. He could hear her clearly. Lucil winked at him as she sang. Somewhere in the distance a cuckoo clock sounded. As quickly as Lucil had arrived, she slipped through a slit in the tent and was gone again. She journeyed to the Americas, traveled North to Canada, where she settled in Montreal, waiting several hundred years for the moment in her concert when she would slip back in between beats. Somewhere in another time, Beethoven went home and composed his Ninth Symphony.