Chapter 2: Playing at Lakeside
Narrated by Modric.
Narrator: The boy seems excited to touch a piano. Maybe he thinks the melody will just pour out as soon as he gets in position.
Narrator: But he soon realizes the piano keys are too heavy for his little fingers to press.
Narrator: The boy gazes in frustration at the piano keys.
Modric: Not like what you imagined, huh?
Boy: ...
Modric: Come with me.
Narrator: I pulled the boy off the piano stool and led him out of the door.
Narrator: It’s autumn in Pigeon Kingdom. The roads are covered with a blanket of red and yellow leaves.
Narrator: I bring him to a deserted alley.
Boy: Why are we going this way instead of the way we took last time?
Modric: Too many people.
Boy: Oh. So you’re shy? I saw so many pretty ladies staring at you and saying you’re handsome!
Narrator: Many years ago, my teacher, too, brought me on a walk down an alley covered with yellow leaves.
Narrator: I counted the beat of my steps as we walked. My teacher, however, stopped me, even though he always encouraged practice.
Narrator: He said I should listen to the sounds of nature and forget the beats.
Narrator: He wanted me to feel the vastness of nature, the uncertainty of time.
Narrator: Time and beats were man-made concepts, he said.
Narrator: It was created by humans who wish to gain a semblance of certainty in this uncertain world.
Narrator: “But time is relative,” he said. “If you’re immersed in music, you transcend time. That’s the feeling music and nature can bring you.”
Narrator: My teacher told me that, in time, everything can cease to exist. While in music, time can cease to exist.
Narrator: I’ve always remembered his words.
Modric: So the passage of time is relative, huh...
Narrator: That memory has the same impact on me as it did years ago, as if time had stopped. I return to the present only when we reach the Holy Light River.
Narrator: It’s no longer the same shimmering, scenic river that I remember.
Boy: Sir? What are we doing here...?
Narrator: I pick up a stone and toss it into the water. It lands with a plop and sinks, leaving behind tiny ripples on the surface.
Modric: Try it. See if you can make some big ripples.
Narrator: Though confused, the boy still does as I say, picking up stones to toss.
Narrator: He makes bigger and bigger ripples one plop after another.
Modric: Remember this feeling. When you play the piano, imagine you’re throwing stones. You’ll be able to hold the keys down then.
Choose either “Will that work?” or “That’s an interesting method.”
If “work,” ...
You: Will this method really work?
Narrator: It should. It was how I learned to use my fingers properly when I first took piano lessons.
If “method,” ...
You: Sounds like an interesting and easily understandable method! You’re clever.
Narrator: I didn’t do anything. My teacher was the one who came up with it.
Chapter 1
Chapter 3
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