text: It was the fourth night in a row that I had heard the music. Never before had it played so frequently; usually it was on rare occasion, maybe once or twice a week, and particularly on the night of a new moon. Ever since my family had inherited the old piano as part and parcel of our new home, this strange and beautiful music had caused me many sleepless nights. Often when it would play, I would quietly slip out of my room and down the hallway to sit at the top of the stairs and listen. I knew not who played the music; nobody in my family was musically inclined, and they all lay sleeping as if they could not hear it. Deep down I knew and could not pretend that the piano played these haunting and melancholy melodies on its own, and this anomaly greatly piqued my curiosity. When the music would not play and I would sleep through the night, I would regularly dream of venturing down the steps into the basement to see who sat before the black and white keys, but every time I reached the bottom step, the music would stop and I would wake up alone in the quiet darkness. This particular night was the night of a new moon, so dark that scarcely any light came even from the windows. The weird and beautiful music rang clearly from the piano in the old spare room downstairs as I sat on the top step listening. I had been there enjoying the sound of it for what must have been at least an hour. The rest of the house lay completely still and sleeping; all except for me and this thing who played the piano. Never before had I gone down the stairs when the music played; only in dreams. However on this night, curiosity got the best of me, and I began to make my way down one step at a time. I expected the music to stop, although I hoped it would not. The descent down the stairs seemed to last forever; the music got louder as the darkness in the air grew thicker. I was almost to the bottom and the music went on, giving me high hopes that I would at last meet the Musician. There were three steps left; then two, then one, and then my feet met the cold concrete floor. Just as it was in my dreams, the music stopped abruptly, only I did not wake up. That is when the singing began. Very softly at first, in words I could not understand, it sang; a singular voice from the room occupied only by the piano at the end of the hallway. Whether the voice belonged to a man or a woman, I could not discern. It was simply otherworldly. The melody of this song was slow and eerie, rising and falling like the waves of the ocean, and floating in the air like a mist. As I made my way down the hallway, the melody came to a resolution, only to begin again accompanied by the piano. The song was so strangely beautiful; I only wished I could understand the words. I had to meet this great musician whose song could move the soul like this. I was almost to the end of the hallway; the song was louder and clearer than ever before, and it was only just on the other side of that door. I reached for it, turned the knob, and pushed it open. The music stopped instantly. The inside of the room was pitch black, darker even than the hallway. After a moment, my eyes adjusted slightly, and I could see the piano against the back wall. And there was the Musician. On the bench before the instrument sat a tall, thin shadow-figure of a man, only it did not sit facing the piano; it faced me. I could not see if it had eyes, but I could feel its gaze matching mine. I stood paralyzed for a moment, and suddenly realized I was rudely intruding and interrupting the song. I closed the door and began to back away. The song did not resume. I started to hurry back towards the stairs, but I did not make it before I heard the door to the spare room creak open behind me. Stopped in my tracks, I turned around to look. I could not resist. At the end of the hallway, the door had been pushed open only a crack,and from the darkness within was a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at me. Only a second later the door slammed shut and the music resumed playing. I listened from the top step once again, and for the first time heard the grande finale and end of the music. It was the vast final storm of the sea before the death of the wind and sky and eternal calm over the waters. Alone in the total darkness and complete silence, I retired to bed to sleep, and did not dream that night. Never again would I hear that beautiful song, though I’ll be damned if I ever forget it. Never again would the Musician bless the keys of my piano with its brilliance, nor my soul with its tune.