late last night as I was leaving Johns I overheard piano music floating down the stairs from the old music room. I stood against the cold brick and listened.
I was the secret audience to that virtuoso performance and I replayed it in my head all the way home on my bike.
the melody translating as if it had been bounced off the moon and bits had been lost in the process and some how added in. But always with what I'd heard going round and round, rising and falling in that lonely night air.