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The Gentle Intrigues of a Piano Heart
by Christina Murphy Not that the road did not turn or bend by ordinary standards, but he knew the curves as stars aligned with the universe that spoke in the language of--well, his language, which was known to echo, at times, and to fade, like the wind, into canyons at other times. If you find the words like notes on a piano, then so be it, he would say, speaking to those who passed by near the subway station he loved for its animated lights of mostly blue and gold. Somewhere high above in a panoply of lights he could see Mickey Mouse smiling, inviting people to partake of entertainment. He liked the PARTAKE! that flashed and twinkled and reminded him of eating a meal--one that he would like to share with Mickey Mouse, but he never could catch Mickey's eye as Mickey smiled above in the vast night of neon that held many people in the crowds spellbound. The subways filled, the subways emptied, the subways filled again. This was his time to become the road that was a piano. He pulled his heart into a circle in his chest, feeling the absence created by a simple closed curve—the perfect zero of eccentricity. The circle of his heart contained the music, the rhythms that were louder than the night, more majestic than the vast neon lights, more commanding than Mickey shouting PARTAKE! And as Mickey frolicked above, playing catch with a group of brindled puppies, that is when his heart split into a road—one with a thousand exit ramps and no entrances. Something loud, something hollow, and something like the subway entrance but with no passengers boarding. No passengers at all—just the lights flashing in the clouds above. The chords of music frozen in time. And even Mickey melting into a river of colors so much like a canyon at sunrise as the subway trains rattled through the empty spaces known only to the wind. |
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