the piano

i moved slowly yet steadily into the open-spaced room. there was nothing in there but a piano. ah what pleasures. aimlessly i ambled towards the piano with great deliberation. sitting down on the piano stool so distinguishly crafted to perfection, i began to study the piano with greater intricacy. it was in a dark shade of brown and its covers were slightly darker. each key was polished with such care and being in the room all by itself, it certainly was an instrument that commanded great presence in its solitude. i hefted a heavy sigh and pulled my hands out of my pocket. cold, clammy and nervously tingling with excitement, i lifted my hands for inspection and when i was satisfied with its appearence, i lay it upon the piano. gently glazing the notes one by one i felt waves of intensity flow through my fingers, to my hand, and den my arm and den my whole body. overwhelmed with passion, i hit upon the notes with such force as i created a symphony of my own, a colourful display of creativity. i played on through the night, never really wanting to stop or lift my fingers of this almost magical instrument. as i played a slower piece that spoke nothing but sorrow, i realised that to make this memory a beautiful one, i had to end it. so with great reluctance and increasing despair, i stopped. and for that moment i could feel waves of magical interludes playing through my mind incessantly. amen