What deserves to be written

Pliny went to a Lunch Hour Concert yesterday. It was an organ recital. She expected to be looking at the organ, listening to the music, idly counting the pipes. But there were 2 screens on the stage, showing the hands and feet of the organist. Pliny was entranced by the dancing feet of the organist, in their shiny black shoes. They hardly seemed to touch the pedals, and yet they produced the heaviest notes.