In the beginning, the valse was a conversation. Each chord was a question asked by a ghost, answered by the echo of the high ceilings. Outside, the sea began to sync its waves to the 3/4 time signature. A fisherman a mile offshore paused his work, confused by why his heart suddenly felt like it was swinging on a pendulum. In the city nearby, people found themselves walking with a strange, rhythmic grace, unaware that a piano in the ruins was pulling their strings.
When the final chord finally drifted out over the black water, the silence that followed was heavier than the music. Evgeny stood up, his hands trembling slightly. He left the piano open, the keys still warm. 2 Hours Of Valse By Evgeny Grinko
He walked out into the cool night, leaving behind two hours of captured time. The villa was empty again, but the walls would hum in 3/4 time for a hundred years to come. In the beginning, the valse was a conversation