T2W9

On the spur of the moment, I picked him up and asked him if he was Nikolai Nostri. He nodded grimly, a lifetime of fear and agony imprinted on his every feature. He was clearly tired and frightened, with a pathetic look, he fanned the embers of pity in me. I led him back to the hotel, holding his tiny hand tightly. Luckily, the hotel was not greatly affected by the blast and could still function. After dinner, I brought him to the piano proudly displayed at the hotel lobby. Nikolai was a genius who can allegedly coax heavenly music out of the most cantankerous instrument and being a dilettante I was determined to see for myself the talent of this boy. I told him my wish. He reached out tentatively to touch the keys and after a long while played a few hesitant note then with gutso a beauiful melody filled the room and quitened the hustle and bustle in the the room as if bliss is brought back to the war-torn town. (to be continued...)