His fingers glide over the keys. His face is calm as he carefully listens to the instruments fine tune. The notes on the white paper become reality. It fills the air with a different feeling to every heart. The pace speeds up, his fingers move rapidly and yet, even more graceful. His heart combines with the tune and races along with the pace. The notes begin to playfully bounce off the paper. The fingers slow and delicately press each key. His heart is light, his fingers stop, he stands up and leaves his bench without a bow. Yet, it still lingers throughout the room, in every heart.
October 31, 2011