The Pianist Novels & Stories

I replied. "The meal is excellent, thank you," Adrian said smoothly. Then, he turned his head toward the stage and then back at the waiter. "Is it alright for a guest to play the piano while the regular pianist is on break?" The waiter smiled warmly. "Oh, absolutely, Monsieur. The regular pianist is actually filling in today because our main performer traveled. We would love some music. Would you like to play?" Adrian smirked and looked at me. "Not me. My girlfriend."

curious. So intrigued that she dared scoot closer and take a peek, only to notice the same male from the other night dressed the same way -top hat and all- and with that same frightening appearance painted over his face as from her spot, she could see him from the side, sitting on the stool in such a calm, tranquil manner whilst his long fingers expertly touched the keys of the piano.

She had never heard of such a special musical instrument, nor had she heard of the song played by this special musical instrument. "Young Master, what is this musical instrument?" The green-dressed woman glanced at the woman in white and asked softly. "It is a piano," Samuel said softly. "The piano is a good name. It's so damn amazing. I like it." The pangolin laughed. After that, he whispered to the pearl curtain, "By the way, the two of them have finished playing. We should win, right?" The woman in green did not answer. She just looked at Samuel and said, "Young master, can you play another song?"

The sound of the piano! Dax and the others came to their senses and they looked in the direction where the sound of the piano was coming from. At the same time, dozens of elite disciples turned their heads around to check out the origin of the sound. They were stunned to discover what was happening. A slender figure approached the crowd slowly by the river bank. Her pace was slow, but it gave an airy, light feeling. She was indescribably agile and elegant. It was the Honorable Pianist, Celine Maine.

There was a pause before the pianist said gloomily, "Not only can this pair of hands play the piano, it would also be easier for this pair of hands to learn the skill of pickpocketing compared to the average person." In fact, the pianist was also a pickpocket when he was a teenager. He had no particular intention in saying that or maybe he wanted to warn a child that since she could use her hands to create something beautiful, then she should not do bad things. That was all. However, what he said seemed to have inspired Eira. Eira asked the pianist thoughtfully, "Sir, are you talking about being a

The necromancer turned back and answered, with a slight bow, “Your majesty, if you let, I’d like to play a composition (at this moment, he cast a penetrating glance at me across the hall). The dozen feet separating us only amplified the effect of the next phrase, which he seemed to say for me alone, “I composed this piece myself.” Well, that was it. My heart didn’t break but stopped. Forever. He was lying, wasn’t he? He might just want to surprise or scare me. “Oh! That will be a magnificent present!” the king exclaimed, clapping his hands. At his silent sign, the pianist stood up obediently, yielding his chair to Reive, and joined the other musicians. The nec

Observing that the cause to which he had dedicated his life was going down in ruins, he added: "I hope that out of this terrible calamity will arise a spirit that will compel people to give up the reliance on force." Early in 1940 Lansbury's health began to fail; although unaware, he was suffering from stomach cancer. In an article published in the socialist magazine Tribune, published on 25 April 1940, he made a final statement of his Christian pacifism: "I hold fast to the truth that this world is big enough for all, that we are all brethren, children of one Father". Lansbury died on 7 May 1940, at the Manor House Hospital in Golders Green. His funeral in St Mary's Church, Bow, was followe

I grab a seat at the bar as soon as I get inside, letting the music wash over me. The piano is at the other side of the room, but I can already tell it isn't the usual guy at the piano tonight. Whereas the regular guy typically plays some contemporary hits but mostly “Golden Oldies” from the 60s and 70s, this guy is playing nothing but classical music. I close my eyes and listen to a piece I don't recognize, but I can tell he's pouring his entire soul into it. Either this song means something to him or he's a piano prodigy.

She never knew that he could play the piano. Her feet walked slowly back to Rafael. She leaned her elbows on the body of the piano, smiling while enjoying Rafael's perfect playing—not a single wrong note. The tempo, the rhythm, and the way he pressed the keys showed that he had been playing the piano for a long time—not an amateur who could only play one or two songs with sheet music and notes. She knew that Rafael was aware of her presence through the brief smile on the corner of his lips. However, he continued playing—finishing a complicated piece that was quite famous, Beethoven's F Minor Sonata.

While Mark could not tell, Isaac knew that Irene was playing Variations on the Kanon, which happens to fit the night's event. The rhythm almost seemed bewitching, as if telling the audience that nothing was impossible—that perseverance would eventually realize dreams. It was also the first time Isaac was looking directly at her, and he must admit that she was talented. She was certainly not just a pretty face—she was a doctor, a dancer, and a pianist. If Isaac was not listening with his own ears, he would not have believed she could play the piano so immaculately. Soon, however, her performance was over, and the audience applauded her warmly… though there were not that many who truly enjoyed