The weather today's perfect.

My mind is not.

As I wrestled with Schubert's impromptu, emotional sounds produced triggered some flashbacks.

You told me that you loved that piece. I heard you play it. You told me that it is demanding, for your left hand, according to you. Sorry if I can't remember what else you told me, I tried to store every information that you spoke, and still speaking.

I hope that you can hear me play it some day, wherever we are. It's my pleasure to perform to you. But I don't know whether it's pleasure listening to me.

I wouldn't be learning this piece if we hadn't gone under the same teacher. We wouldn't be under the same teacher if I hadn't met you. If I hadn't met you I wonder how will I be like today. In another parallel universe where everything is the same just that we hadn't met.

I shall perfect it for you, yes I will, and it will not be in vain. I shall go practise now.

The weather today is perfect to play Schubert.