Piano Man has an office space on the 26th floor of the building I work in.
I don’t think Piano Man is his name, but that’s what we call him because that’s what he does. He plays piano, Monday-Friday
Each morning around 5:30AM, Piano Man enters his office and practices.
I have never seen him. I’ve only heard his music through the door in the hallway.
I heard him this morning…..
I stood outside his door and listened to the delicate sound of quiet music
I stopped for the moment; I stopped thinking about work
I forgot about my bills, and the fact that my body was running on little sleep.
I would have forgotten about my boss, but then I heard him call my name over the radio.
I remember the time I played hooky.
I should do that again.
My morning train pulled into New York City’s Pennsylvania Station, and rather than take my usual path, I called my supervisor to inform him I would not be in.
My next step was up the 34th street escalator, and then I walked to Central Park.
I watched the horse and carriages ride near Columbus Circle. I watched the tourists, and then I visited the hotdog cart.
Two with mustard, ketchup, and sauerkraut
I took a walk through The Museum of Natural History and stared at the artifacts.
I piped music to my ears and watched classes of children gather on their field trips to “The Big City.”
I said to myself, “Someday, I’ll write about this.”
It was nearly springtime and the weather decided to be kind to us.
At the time, the life I lived had yet to evolve.
There were still too many questions and my need for answers seemed too overpowering.
It wasn’t enough to just live or be comfortable in my own skin, I needed more.
I needed to know where I was going, or at least, where I would end up.
I ran in circles for so long, I had no idea how to sit still….and unwind.
My mind was a constant turn of events, and whether I was happy or sad, for the first time, it was nice to be faceless.
It was nice to feel anonymous and sit on a bench by the Central Park Lake.
I haven’t thought about that day in years. At least, not until this morning….
This morning, I walked down the west side corridor on the 26th floor.
Piano Man was playing Mozart
I like Mozart.
The Written Addiction 