It was the dead of night. The illuminated streets of Paris were filled with traffic. The full moon was stationed above Paris glistening and shining in the night sky.
In the background the Eiffel Tower posed firmly. The streets of Paris were jammed with bright luminous lights.
Observing over Paris, were tall oak trees standing proudly. Defenders of the dead.
All of a sudden, rapid footsteps arrived at Jim Morrison’s grave. Some weird sort of yellow and orange orbs rose up from the graves. Along the path, a young approached an unknown destination. Gasping for breath, she stopped and slowly lifted back her bright red hood and questioned, ” Monsieur Chopin?”
Spontaneously, a chord struck from a piano nearby. The girl swivelled her head to her right. A smile spread across her face. The young girl bounded with joy to a nearby grave. She peered through a gap and her eyes lit up with happiness. In front of her, she saw an ancient piano being played by a pianist glistening in the night sky; the graves began to light up with the orbs that made then look like were coming to life. The orbs flew across to the pianist twinkling and dancing above his head.
Out of the blue, the girls phone rang as the pianist continued to play. Hesitating, she reached into her hoodie pocket to redeem her device but it slipped out of her fingers as she tried to catch it but it just kept bouncing out of her hands. Finally she caught her mobile and crouched down to see who it was. It was her mother. She anxiously peered over her shoulder to see if the pianist was watching her. The girl reluctantly answered the phone, “Darling, where are you?” questioned her worried mother. The girl quietly muttered, “Don’t worry mother, I’m at my piano lesson.”
“Huh, wait… what, you don’t have piano lessons,” the mum replied surprised.
“It’s ok bye…” the girl quickly whispered, whilst ending the call.
The girl slowly crept quietly up behind the back of the pianist vintage piano. Then she bounded up from behind the piano and rest her hands on the tomb. Weakly she yelled, “So… are we starting yet?” In shock the pianist fell back onto the stone-cold floor trying to grip onto his piano stool and screamed “ahhh.” The girl countered “Monsieur Chopin.”
The girl leaned over the piano to help Monsieur Chopin rise. “you’re late Lucy!” Monsieur Chopin exclaimed.
Lucy sarcastically smirked. she asked Monsieur Chopin “why do you look so pale?”
“That may be because I’m dead, Lucy,” Monsieur Chopin responded.
“Oh,” said Lucy. “So why don’t you grab a stool and I’ll show you how to play one of my favourite piece of music,” suggested Monsieur Chopin. “What piece of music?” requested Lucy Monsieur Chopin replied “A very famous piece called Fire Dragon.” “Ok,” answered Lucy.