Alexander slowly maneuvered between the tables and chairs until his shoe struck the low stage at the back of the bar. Stepping up, he made his way to the piano.
It was an instrument battered with years of use, and it had faithfully borne the songs of many. Seating himself, he pumped the damper a few times and opened the fallboard. The air warmed as the stage lights focused upon him, and regular patrons shushed newcomers until silence gradually fell.
With a last adjustment of his dark glasses, Alexander lifted his hands to the keyboard and played.
He bled his emotion onto the ivory terrain, and the universe shrunk until the only presence he knew was his own twisted feelings and the 88 keys upon which he threw them. Anger and frustration cried out in the broken chords that so accurately betrayed his fractured interior. Every listener was enveloped in his pain as it swirled about the room.
Then, as quickly as it came, the music ceased with soft finality.
His soul was quieted.
Silence prevailed once more.