133: What Became

A low rumble. A repetitive flute and then piano — moving slowly up and down, finding a path in through the dark night — the two play at the same time, not really together. A strumming rises and falls on the left. The tune is never playful, never mournful, not quit even, looking for its way. A held note, hoping to be propelled forward. Are those voices, is it a crowd? The harmonic shift keeps it from resolving. The nervous energy, the pace quickens, but somehow a moment of calm within the noise. The piano returns, still going up and down, spinning it’s wheels, changing keys, but not finding a way. Its ‘friend’ the flute returns as well…. No hope to find its way, the struggle is heard.