//A person sits at a piano in a room//
Notes fell readily from my memory and onto the piano keys at my fingertips recreating the trite sounds of Maestro Debussy's esteemed melody.
I played for no attentive listeners, in no grand auditorium. Only one man fell within earshot of my tune. As weak with his words as his posture, he shifted his eyes about in a mixture of fear and doubt.
Even if I were to close my eyes, I could draw his features in the void with nothing more than my memories. Every feature, every pulsing movement; the signs on his face that age had yet to win its long battle against his youth.
I can still taste the crisp, bittersweet flavor my mind gave to the air on the day I found him, staring so intently at the starry sky, as if he wanted to leave the rest of the world behind.
That infamous night, quietly accompanied by Maestro Debussy, would change everything forever.
