concert: jazz piano

At the concert hall, in a trance of listening, everything fades away—fellow listeners, hard chairs, old wood, all dim out and disappear as the quietly flowing stream of a jazz piano tune carries them away. Outside in the barren cityscape around me, crowds become thinner, scarce, vanish. Buildings fall to rubble, walls crumble, cars collapse into rust, pavement buckles and splits.

In the silent, ruined street a thousand years hence there are only two sounds: the constant wind, and the calm, elegant, mournful phrases of a jazz piano tune wafting from the shell of a solitary building.

There was a song in my childhood:

All things shall perish

From under the sky

Music alone shall live

Music alone shall live

Music alone shall live

Never to die

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