She was sitting there, ready to play and show her skills, but nothing happened. The customers, who became an audience right when she stepped on the stage, were waiting silently. It felt like she wanted to separate her music and the noise with the longest possible silence. Shortly after her preparation, the bar was so quiet that I could hear breathing from the table behind me. And, like she was waiting for that, she started then. Her fingers were dancing on the keys, her head was randomly moving as if she were listening to something else that we couldn’t listen, and the music was going out from the stage so rapidly and so gently at the same time. All of that wanted to go out of her. Each tone in the melody was like imprisoned fairies, who were singing about their memories of the secret have
