The piano starts right in on a quick, bright figure. No clearing of the throat — the hand is already turning.

Under the bright surface there's a steady beat, close to a hundred. The upper notes prick around it instead of sitting square.

The figure keeps circling. It builds by repetition, not by getting louder — the phrase leaning forward as if the wheel is taking on more thread.

A small exhale. The hand loosens for a second, but the turning keeps going.

The phrase drops and the space inside the pattern opens up. Still fast, still finely jointed, but the weight has pulled back.

The motion tightens again — not by force, just by refusal to leave. The same figure grows heavier when it won't stop.

Another release, then another drop at 1:05. Lift, turn, fall, resume — each small bargain leaves a trace of the last tightening.

This is the cleanest clearing. For a few seconds it feels less anxious — the figure holds its shape without being forced.

The phrase drops and settles into another run. You get a beat to stand on, but the surface motion won't let you rest inside it.

The returns are coming faster. The repeated motion starts to sound less like decoration and more like necessity.

The push has lengthened. The upper figure glitters harder against the steady ground.

A quick ornamental flash — a spark thrown off the wheel.

The release doesn't dissolve. It trims itself down and breaks the spell.

The final turn clicks out of place.