I look around the room slowly, my loving gaze caressing the part of you Hades could not and will never have. I will keep my promise. I will show your work. In hundreds of years, when we are all dust, people.

I’m again a twelve-year old dreamer, a girl fascinated by an ancient piano and with Rona Lubliner’s fingers.

We have art in order not to die of the truth. – Friedrich Nietzsche.

The Moonlight Sonata” envelops me again, and my mind follows its slow progression, returning me to a land so small and hungry, it devours its inhabitants, first sheltering them, then soaking in their blood.

Perfect vision only gets in the way, Kyra thought. We all look better when the lights are out.

I'm again a twelve-year old dreamer, a girl fascinated by an ancient piano and with Rona Lubliner's fingers.