In the silver chamber, Leo runs his slender fingers over the keys of the grand piano. The booming notes loom overhead in hesitance. Each echo of his song bled with melancholy. His eyes sat in their hollowed sockets, welled over with tears of the past. The room itself seemed to heave out in agony with each key pressed. He spoke without words to his seatless audience, the abyss of existence hanging overhead.

"There are eighty-eight keys on a piano and within that, an entire universe.”