Every night as I lie awake, I hear the faint melodies of the piano man. His song escapes through the walls, seeps through the vents, crawls its way under my door and cradles me under the covers.
I hear his heartbeat in each note. His anguish flows through his veins and pours out through his fingertips with the stroke of each key. Are you lonely too, I wonder as I lie in bed.
“Didn’t you hear? He lost his wife and son in a fire. Heard he’s gone mad,” the neighbors whisper in the stairwell.
His eerie lullaby echoes a sweet sadness. The melody rises and falls with each swell of my breath. I hear the song become slow and distant. My eyelids feel heavier with every blink. And as I close my eyes for the final time, I hear the piano man strike one last chord before shutting the lid of his piano.
