Photo courtesy of Gediminas Pranckevicius
His fingers moved swiftly and nimbly across the black and white keys of the grand piano. It was a beautiful melody, sad but beautiful. The tune floated on the warm, westerly breeze, amongst the auburn and dark green leaves that danced like puppets on an invisible string before finally settling on the grass. He sat here every day, in the same spot under his tree, while the world kept itself busy beneath him.
Who is the man that plays the piano?
Why is it ‘his’ tree?
How can the tune he plays be both sad and beautiful?
Why do think he is playing this particular tune? Does it have a meaning behind it?
Do you think he plays the same tune all the time?
Who lives in the houses beneath him?
Why do you think he prefers to be solitary?
Is it OK for people to prefer their own company sometimes?
Do you think the man misses other people?