Nothing feels better than those ivory keys beneath your fingertips. The only sound is your footsteps clacking across a barren stage; your breath is your audience and your heartbeat is a rhythm of its own, thumping despite the metronome. Seats sit ghostly. What stories have they seen? What grandiose people have they held? The sheen of the grand piano dazzles like extravagant jewelry behind glass. Dare I bite from this forbidden apple? Its melodious music could dance like flames. Even though you prefer the pristine quality of a newer Yamaha, you also yearn to play the flat notes of a dusty aged piano. Incredulously, its keys play dull and drab notes that provide angelic sounds. You arch your fingers high like you were sternly instructed to do, and from under your hands, your piece becomes alive.