The Piano Man

John positioned himself comfortably on the stool. He pulled each sleeve back from his wrists exposing well toned forearms, and then strategically placed his surprisingly chunky fingers - the sausage fingers of a Plumber - onto the keys.
         
The first tinkle hushed the chatter in the room.  The hush spread like a picnic blanket being laid out on the ground, beginning from the punters closest to the Baby Grand.
         
Then John looked out towards his audience. His infectious smile and the sparkle emanating palpably from his eyes ensnared all.  And so John’s performance was underway.

The spectators were transfixed until the last resonating note of the last song had fallen completely from the air.
         
The applause came like a relief – a satisfying climax at the end of a spell-binding performance.
         
John withdrew his energy from the room – sucked it back into his body, and became whole again.  He slunk into the crowd and like a Cameleon, became one of them. Anonymous again.