A rhythmic tap of shoe on wood echoes throughout,
a tall suit materializes before you,
it hunches over the black piano, devout,
a stream of crystalline notes cascade, birthed anew,
under the slender hands of this lone prodigy,
skating the surface his hands scurry back and forth,
you breathe in and out with each rise and fall as he builds to crescend-
The note cuts through the air sharp and unwieldy,
a silence- followed by a crack of the knuckles, a clearing of the throat and
breathe in, out, rise, fall cresend-
he plummets his head into the pure white ivory,
intensifying with each note as he slam his head down, down, down,
the raucous sound worms its way into the ear clawing with sharp e’s
demonic screeching that stabs at your senses,
resonating with perfect clarity the death throes of a thousand stillborn mothers,
each note damning their souls to a personal hell.
Then silence.
Except, for the tiny singular
drip,
drop,
of blood onto the wood.
He is dead; the audience applauds.
