I Paid My Father $250 in Rent Every Month for Five Years. After His Funeral, His Best Friend Gave Me a Key and a Box.

Reality was more interesting and less dramatic.

A retired bus driver emailed to say the song reminded him of his wife.

A college student told me she had listened to it on the first night away from home.

Someone complained that the second track was too quiet.

I learned that putting music into the world meant surrendering control over how people heard it.

Tessa, the student from the Saturday workshop, brought her father to the studio.