As he stepped out on to his balcony he could sense the gloom, the air heavy with fear, anxiety, dread, of a city under siege, a city quarantined, in lockdown. The streets below bore a deserted look of a city gripped in fear. He noticed a few people sitting in their balconies, and even at this distance he could make out the gloom, the dread, the fear, but most of all the sadness in their eyes.
He couldn’t quite take this, and so stepped back into the confines of his room. He felt a cold sense of dread slowly gripping his heart, its long cold fingers slowly threatening to squeeze the life out of it. The air around was heavy and rife with fear and anxiety. He couldn’t shake off this feeling no matter how hard he tried.
And then he noticed his keyboard just sitting there. So he plugged it in and started to play. He needed a way to escape, a way of maintaining his sanity, and music provided that escape, music was therapeutic, in a time like this, and music was what he needed. Low and behold he felt a warmth rising from his fingers time, which were tickling the ivories, and flowing through his veins, to every part of his being, slowly enveloping his being, forcing the fear to recede, lifting the gloom, bringing him hope, calming his anxiety, settling his nerves. The music like a healing balm began to soothe his soul, relaxed him, calmed him down. And as he played on, everything seemed to light up with the gloom fading away, and his spirits lifting.
And as he tickled those ivories, an idea struck him. He knew what he needed to do. He took his keyboard to his balcony, and plugged it in to the speakers. The streets were still deserted, and there were few people staring blankly into space. He took a deep breath and hoped what he was about to do would bring respite from the gloom and fear that gripped the city.
Slowly he began playing his keyboard. At first, eyeing the buildings around him, and then slowly getting lost in the music. As he played, he noticed more people coming to their galleries, some wondering what was the music about, others just swaying hypnotically to it.
Low and behold he heard the faint strains of a saxophone being played, in a distance, duetting on the song he was playing. And he scanned the balconies for the saxophonist, who so beautifully blending into his own music, without once loosing the beat, keeping up their duet. And then he finally saw her peering out of her balcony, playing the saxophone, a building a way. He gave her a big thumbs up and continued to play, pausing for her to continue her note and then playing on. Together they made sweet music.
Their music had intended affect, as more people came out on their balconies to enjoy the music. The gloom that hung heavy was slowly lifting up, and along with it their spirits. They continued their duet amidst the cheers of those who witnessed them play, who were touched by the music, who’s spirits were uplifted.
And as they brought a close to their duet there was a huge round of applause, resounding from every corner of the block. People appreciating what they had done, what they had just heard, what they witnessed, eternally grateful for the music. They too applauded each other. In that moment music provided them with the healing touch that was the need of the hour, and had somehow managed to save their lives.
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