It is hard to explain what this sound resembles. Certainly, it is like a cloud of falling splashes: if each of the splashes had its own voice, it would probably sound like this. Or the cries of a flock of tiny birds. Or the call of some overwhelming feeling: sweetly alarming, disturbing. Or…and then the sound entered the workshop. It entered and shattered the space.

The girls brought in a dress. Silk, dark blue, embroidered with white beads, and…jingle-bells. And that is what sang in many voices with every movement. Delicate, tremulous.