Maurice's POV,
“Sad, indeed.” I couldn’t help but get up on my feet and walk to take on the role of the pianist, temporarily. She was a kind lady, briefly excusing the piano for me to play, she smiled and walked off. And I did take her place. Gladly. The only piece on the piano, I still remember it with all my heart and feelings. It’s more like a stamped memory. My fingers danced on their own as they touched the black and white buttons. I didn’t exert a slight pressure. I closed my eyes as the visions of the past moved like a video in front of my eyes. How can I not cry? How can I not tear myself away? And I did. I cried and wiped my eyes.
“You can play the piano?” he asked, walking close, almost as stunned as the people around were who clapped for me.
“It’s been a long time. But this
