You sat in the attic of an ancient building. It was one of those places where at night you could almost hear the ghosts singing, and where during the day light flickered through dusty windows, casting strange glows throughout the old rooms. No one lived there, not for at least fifty years. It was somewhere that you could sit for hours, without being disturbed. Or so you thought.
Creak.
The old house always creaked, but this was more of a footstep creak than old rotten wood. You closed your book, and went to the door, opening it with a slight creak.
The stairway curled down, and at the bottom was a time worn piano. You stepped on the first stair, and crept down slowly.
You stopped.
The most beautiful piano music reached your ears. A sad, haunting tune. Who was playing?
You leant over the rail, and there, was a man sitting at the stool, his slim fingers flashing across the black and white keys.
He glanced up as he heard you. "Oh hello," he smiled. "I thought this was my house."
"It belongs to no one." you said.
"Well...not any more, I bought it, so, you're trespassing." he responded, resuming his playing. "I don't suppose you play?"
You?
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