Читать книгу Crystal Garden онлайн

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However, the most interesting things happened at nights when the Mentor was away. One night I was woken by the sound of a grand piano playing. Somewhere deep behind the stone walls, an unknown musician was telling his story. I’d never heard anything as beautiful. There was every emotion within that melody: longing, passion, anger. I saw living pictures in my imagination. The music enthralled and carried me away to snow-capped mountains, then made me fall into darkness and despair. Was I dreaming? Can a dream be so real? Can we wonder in a dream whether we are actually dreaming? But the Mentor had no grand piano. There was no room in his tiny farmhouse for such a thing.

I got out of bed and walked into the living room. As far as I knew, there were only two exits from the living room. One to my room and the other into the corridor which led to the kitchen and the Mentor’s bedroom. But the melody was coming from behind a door I hadn’t noticed before. I pulled the handle and the door opened. Behind it was a long corridor with many more doors. All of them were open. The ghostly moonlight lit the way as I explored. Most of the rooms were empty, but here and there stood some old furniture. The melody was louder now, and it filled the entire space. At the end of the corridor, I saw a thin strip of light under a half-open door. The music was coming from there. I looked in. Chandeliers with burning candles were hanging on the wall. Against one wall was a grand piano. A girl was sitting at the piano with her back to me, so I could only see her long, dark hair. I wanted to open the door a little wider, but it creaked, and then I woke up. It was already morning. Alicia was sitting in the middle of the room and staring at me. Later when I checked there was no other door. Though I have heard a piano a few more times and could swear I wasn’t sleeping.