Tilly Plays

A piece, I suspect, inspired more by the dark times of our world than the image. Please take note it is dark. 


A melody trickles from her grand piano. The notes tumble down the stairs and onto the street outside. I watch from the window as a man stops and allows the delicate notes to wrap themselves around his heart and sooth his frightened soul.

The song, so sad, so happy so devastatingly haunting.

She continues to play.

I hear them. Like zooming bees. Small black dots growing with every pacing moment.

She continues to play.

Black specks are now foreboding wings, their humming threaten to drown out the joy her fingers produce.

And still she plays.

Black and white are bound together and through master manipulation their perfect pitch and harmony fill the room with such beauty, it breaks my heart.

She brings the piano to life as she translates its regrets and deepest loss, it’s joy, and heartbreak. With every note her fingers conjure magic. An ethereal bliss rises from the massive mahogany body and washes the souls of those nearby with love and wonder.

All at once the noise of the world fades. I hear only music, only the sound of her playing. Soon enough the bombs whistle as they fall through the air. Their marauding echo accompanied  by the sweet, tragic melody. I don’t shudder as they crash into nearby buildings, bursting concrete and shattering windows.

No, it no longer frightens me.

And still she plays.

 I stand beside her, sipping my tea as the world around us crumbles to dust. Her melody sifts through the ash and fire; like angel’s wings, it raises us up and away from the screams and panic which threaten my peace.

I go to sit by her. A bomb invades our concerto, and still she plays.


I will admit that a well known and beautiful song called Lisa se Klavier also played a part in the inspiration of this short piece.