The sound of a piano wandered lightly down the street.
He had escaped from a half-open window of a high plane and, slipping through the wrinkles of the white walls, he had taken one of the many ineffable paths of the labyrinthine soul of the air, which had made him more muffled and sensitive only to the most attentive ears.
The sound infiltrated the colorful mosaic of people in the street, twisting for a moment to their lives, and then continue on its unpredictable path, until the end of the song. Then, as a soap bubble, extinguish, disappear.
