Enraptured

The music playing was the sound of silence

Notes dance around the room with violent ferocity, stroking the ears of those who dared to listen

“Carpe animo” it whispers

“Seize the mind”

It smelled like a meadow in the center of a forest

This was only because it was what the audience wanted, not because of the music itself

It was unpleasantly beautiful

Her fingers flitted across the keys, the coolness of the ivories slipping underneath them

At one point, Hales lost the plot, causing the music to be more rushed and painful than before

Finally, it returned to the twilight, making the stars dance

Notes once again danced around the room with all the grace and beauty of a weeping willow

The piano knew things

Everyone who had ever touched it had told their secrets to him

They all had spread their mind dust across his keys

The imaginative humans of music had all been graced by his presence

Each person will be back, even if they think they won’t

They will come back, ready to spill their lives over each of the 88 keys

To him, their secrets smelled like rain and tasted like a cool glass of water on a summer day

Even Billy Joel had delicately slammed the piano’s keys, making the music sound like a carnival

Back then, in Vienna, the piano had been new, with grand sounds and gorgeous legs

The world believed in him, and he had believed in the world

Now, he believed in nothing

Now, he believed that no one would ever come back

Now, he knew he would sit alone on that grandiose stage, playing memories to empty velvet seats.

-B