animais

 guitar_music.jpg (1.8 MB) You have to admit that something about the scene he is about to play is macabre. Whether it is the place and time, or the instrument itself. A man wearing a top hat and a blood-stained tuxedo, standing in front of a cemetery, open a piano and playing a lullaby. As his head turns towards you, his face lets out a ghostly white light. You feel an urge to run away and scream at the top of your lungs, to wake up and not be trapped in the nightmare you are trapped in. But no, you can't move, or scream. He is playing. And as you look at the hole in your chest, you realize you died at his music. It was not at the point, the place, or even the music itself. It was the fact that he played this song, at the place and time he played this song. The last song you will ever hear. Jack plays his last song, for the person he can't remember. Jack sat at his piano, in his studio. He was looking at a photo.