Digging the Mongol hair
"That is when he plays me hard, digging the Mongol hair, roughing my cords. I sing off tune for the very pleasure of his frustration. And I fill the air with a small grunt, or a squeal, a screech for sure. He sweats then, and turning his left eye long down my neck, he wishes to strangle me. I know he does."
(From THE LESSER VIOLIN)