Chapter 4 - Autumns Dying Sound

And so the year, reaches its end, as autumn is at hand. This time
the music man is sitting down in the village, they all know him now and look
forward to the show. He sits there with his long blond her swaying in a slight
breeze. They welcome him this time around as a piano stands in the centre of the
village with people gathering around, the music man all have seen but none have
known came and approached the lone piano.

The fall of bronzed leaves to the ground and the crunch of them under
foot were loud and clear. The all shiver from not from cold but from
anticipation as the music man came to the stand and sat down; hiding his face
buried into the keys of the piano he sat in silence as all edge towards him.

Dum! A single note was held so long, to long for many, on and on this
single note echoed in the air driving people to insanity, a second note, lower
down, did the same and echoed around, long and loud as the note was interrupted
by a grunt of somebody in the crowd “he has ran out of ideas” he proclaimed out
loud, but then what could be seen was the faintest of smiles as a third note
came along, strong and proud, and then a gentle fall of fingers of the note, the
brightest highest sounds stumbling lower, deeper and darker.

And then the last chord he plays, it made peoples skin crawl, struck
panic in their eyes, he stood up from the stool and turned around. All stood and
stared at him, and he opened his mouth with his hands on his chest as the angels
sang out loud, this voice repeated the melody of the piano just the same but
sounded so mournful, so sad. And then he walked away

“this year is now dying” shock and amazement came as they heard the music
man speak for the first time, “I will not play a song for you, but for the
earth” he spoke again, his voice barely noticeable. But to their relief he
turned back around and sat on the stool by the piano.

His fingers fluttered upon the keys, traveling up and down, this sound it
was amazing and sad, so sad. The young ones cried, the elder wept, the adults
looked around. And his voice came again, angelical and proud, simple sound so
eerie and weird, as his voice echoed in the air, the piano still played but
quitter now. Then the winds came, the leaves rose in the sky, circling the music
man as he sighed “good bye”