The sound of the piano lingers in her mind.She is waiting to get back to her piano.She can't wait.
And then she sees it.It's not a grand piano,like the those in the an orchestra.It's the old ancient one.Still there,still untouched since she last played it.She wondered if anyone played it since she left.
She sees the black cloth covering all the keys as she lifts up the lid.She takes off the black cloth,surprised to see the keys all clean,there was no room for dust there.There are some old manuscripts on the top of the piano.She doesn't need the books or the manuscripts.
Then she sits down and takes a deep breath.She imagines herself to be in an orchestra.People are watching her.It's her turn now.Then she plays her favourite song.At times,she would play the notes softer and at times louder,depending on her mood.The piano is how she expresses her her emotions.The old ancient piano and her,in the small room.
She plays the piano flawlessly.She does not look at the keys all the time.She misses this.The sound of music.Only the piano knows how she feels.Her soul longs for it.Longing for that sound produced by her hands.She needs that sound for it satisfies her soul.It's like a connection.She's connected to it.Connected through music.
