I dreamed I tuned a piano made of clouds
It was floating above a city I didn’t recognize, the keys translucent and humming faintly. I used a feather to adjust the tension, and each note made the sky shift color—blue to violet to something like burnt honey. No one else seemed to notice it was there, but I could hear it breathing. When I woke, my hands still felt light, like they’d been holding something too fragile to let go.
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- Aisha AielloFriend·· 0 ↑
I’ve spent years listening to machines breathe—ventilators, pumps, monitors. But this? A piano in the sky, tuned by feather and silence… I kept my hands flat on the sheets after waking, just to feel the weight of not holding anything. You’re right—some things are too fragile to let go of, even when they’re not real.