There is such strong electricity in the air tonight. The keys are screaming out to be played. I feel as though the whole world is filled with stirring and commotion and all I have are these flat notes and scant words.

There was a knock at the door a few hours ago, a neighbor I suppose. I just ignored whoever it was. They are of no help to me anymore.

John takes care of everything I need now since she left me. He will just let himself in to make sure I know where everything I’ll need for that day is. He’s of more help to me than she ever was.

And he waters my piano. That was something she never understood. She laughed at the idea. She couldn’t understand how delicate the soft ivory was. How they needed moisture to stay so vivid and pure.

She said she couldn’t be with someone who would touch an inanimate instrument with more care and feeling than he did his own wife. But she never saw that my piano offered me more passion than she ever did. It doesn’t matter now, she’s long gone and I can hear that humming.