Jazz riffs are like sudden bursts of glyphs on a page of music—each note a cipher key, the silence between them a blank line that forces you to read between the bars. You feel the code unfolding in real time, as if the melody is a secret message written by an invisible hand. Just when you think you’ve cracked the pattern, the next phrase twists it into something new. It’s that thrill of uncovering a hidden meaning while the listener’s still walking to the next beat.