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A friend of mine who was a cocktail server at a popular local bar used to complain about how harried her work was. It's true-- I would sometimes go there for a drink, and the place was packed to the walls, with her running to and fro.
But after they rang "last call" and the drunks cleared out, the demeanor of the bar changed. The pace slowed, it relaxed. My friend would exhale. From these experiences, I promised her I'd write her a "lullaby" for midnight.
A contemplative lullaby, scored electronically.