Imaginary Pianist

His hands were gentle, with long slender fingers and rounded tips. Perfectly shaped nails that are clean and smooth. They are hands that give you the unbearable urge to hold, to want to nestle your cheeks against. As they caress a lose strand of your hair, they brush away all your fears and worries and make your believe that even the most dreary and dark days can be beautiful.

The music starts, and like a cloak, it drapes over you, distancing you from the weight of reality. The fingers dance across the keys, sometimes spreading out like the delicate petals of a blossoming lotus and at other times flying sporadically with a fervor of someone grasping to the fading ribbons of unrequited love.

The music is intertwined with emotion, tugging at one's heart strings with it's ups and downs.

The music ends, but the magic lingers and reality settles in slowly like a feather descending from the sky.