Place: Karen's House

I jog up the steps up to the small, red brick house. When I get to the top, I wipe my feet on the holiday-themed doormat--this month it portrays several pilgrims holding pies and baskets of corn. I begin to jiggle the doorknob which always seems a little stuck. As I work on the knob, I get a whiff of crisp, fallen leaves and wet pine. It smells like an autumn-themed candle. Finally, after a bit of tugging, the door launches forward, and I nearly fall into the house. "Come on in!" Karen calls in a cheerful, melodic manner from the piano bench she's sitting on. I wipe my feet on yet another rug in the house, before taking my shoes off and sitting on a child-sized chair in the entryway. Karen instructs her piano student on a few exercises, excuses him, and then summons me in. I rise from my chair and tip-toe onto the plastic-covered carpet.