Samuel is sitting in his room, simple with a bed, a wooden dresser, and a mirror. It’s night, and he is reading. Moonlight filters through his open window, barely providing enough light to see by. Samuel stops reading for a bit and listens. Satisfied, he puts down the book and hides it under his rough, small sheets. Samuel slides out of bed and creeps silently to the dark wooden door. The well oiled hinges don’t make a sound as his door slowly swings open. His bare feet quiet on the wooden floors, Samuel creeps out the front door onto the street. Using shadows, he is able to remain hidden from the few people still outside at this time of night. Soon Samuel comes to a building that looks like all the others, but has one thing the others don’t. A piano. The people who own the house are never home. He slides open the window that leads to the basement and crawls in. The room is filled with so many shadows it’s almost completely black. The only light comes from a torch hanging on the wall, which Samuel lights as soon as he moves his way over to it. The dim illumination reveals rough walls made of different varieties of stacked rocks, and a packed dirt floor. The only furniture in the room is an unpainted upright piano, and a bench Samuel made himself. He drags the bench over to the piano, the rough legs scraping across the ground, stirring up dust. Samuel sits at the piano, puts his hands on the keys, and starts playing. It’s beautiful, but no one can hear a note.