His heart song.
His fingers danced on the keys, as graceful as a ballerina twirling on stage, as skilful as Pele on a football. He played like he had been playing the piano all his life. The accents, the staccatos, thrills, slurs, all blended together to play out his life’s story through music. It started off in a light manner, a major key in a naive tone, representing his childhood life where it was without worries. Here and there, notes were hammered out to tell off how he cried every time he needed something. Then in the background, the bass notes, slowly altered to a minor key, and if anyone could hear it, they could feel the darkness creeping in. It was when he was 5 years old; he finally realized that life was no longer a bed of roses. He knew that he came from a poor family. He saw the pain in his dad’s eyes everyday he came back from work. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he played on. The music grew and grew to broader sounds, a more intense melody line and each chord contained more and more notes. Suddenly, he fisted the bass section of the piano and stopped. A solo melody line was played on the high register. It was a sad melody line that represented his dad’s death. He felt the hurt in his heart. And the piano was his tool to release all his emotions. His pants were wet from the tears that kept coming down. He had mucus crawling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were closed as he thought of that moment his dad came home from work and collapsed unconsciously, never to open his eyes again.
John stopped playing and wiped his face with his sleeves. It was too much for him. He wept.