The beautiful melody

The library had two floors; the top floor reserved for multimedia. One could listen to and borrow CDs, DVDs and use the computers upstairs. I almost never go upstairs for these materials were of no interest to me. I hardly ever watch anything on television or online, and I had an ancient laptop that was sufficient for my needs.

"Please, do play the piano today before you leave." Cherie said, when she noticed that I was about to head out.

"Is there anyone in the library?" I asked.

"Only some guy upstairs; probably a tourist who is making use of the free Wi-Fi. Other than that, you can see that there is no one here today." She answered, gesturing around the café and the classics section which was right in front.

"I guess I could." I said.

I was reserved and would rather play the piano, all alone with no audience. I shielded from prying eyes. Cherie knew about this, and had told me that I was pretty good. In my defence, the piano was a rather loud instrument, and I would not want to impose my interpretation of music on anyone, especially in a public place. I felt that people would scorn my music, and then me. I was flawed and I had feelings embedded which I could conceal in daily life. But music was intimate to me, and my heart and soul went into the keys, serving only to amplify my feelings.

I headed to the vintage cream coloured piano, lifted its lid and laid my hands on its keys. Cherie had pulled out a chair from the long tables to sit beside me.

"How could I please my only audience today?" I asked, smiling at her.

"The melody that you played the last time you were here - something about the scent before rain, you said." Cherie replied.

"Let's see if I can remember exactly what I played." I said, rubbing my palms together to warm them up.

I started on it, rather nervously at first but then as I gained familiarity over the instrument, the notes took a life of their own. I was not in charge anymore. Only my fingers were splayed across the piano, dancing and jumping in place of my feet. I felt an immense sense of beauty; it encompassed physicality but more. It lingered on to the surreal. There was a presence which filled the air, via the sounds of notes. It was really nice to play to this piano, I thought.

When I was done, my fingers brushed on the keys without pressing them. I turned to look at Cherie, and I saw that there were tears in her eyes.

"It's so beautiful. There's some indiscernible quality to it. If scents were alive, this is how they would sound like." She said.

I smiled.