A warm and comforting breeze wisps through the open window of a small apartment on the third floor. Summer has just begun, and the birds are settling down for the night. The last rays of the sun illuminate the small apartment in a deep, golden glow as Eva sits at her desk by the open window. A half-full cup of tea sits at the edge of the desk, still steaming. Papers cover the floor in strategic stacks as the writer jots down her thoughts.
Delicate notes dance on the summer breeze and enter the small room. The writer’s ears prick up as they detect the music. A smile appears on the girl’s lips as she lifts her head. Ah. Punctual as ever. The writer sets down her pen and walks over to the window. Her hair is ruffled by the warm air as she rests her arms on the window’s sill. She closes her eyes and listens to the delicate playing of “Clair de Lune” on the piano. The sun sets with the conclusion of the musical masterpiece.
And again. The writer on the third floor assumes confidently. A satisfied smile appears on her content face as the musician begins playing “Clair de Lune” for a second time. The writer looks down at the second floor of the building across into a room with its windows open. A warm glow accompanies the dancing notes out of the room and into the night sky. The left shoulder of a man dressed in a white, buttoned-down shirt sitting on the piano bench can barely be made out through the window. As usual, the magician plays “Clair de Lune” precisely four times. The first star appears as the musician covers the keys of the piano and concludes for the night.
The tenant on the third floor lets out a sigh and returns to her deck. The light goes out in the apartment on the second floor across the street as the writer lights her candle.
The musician across the street has been playing “Clair de Lune” for as long as Eva has lived in her apartment. She was graced by the music her first night in the small apartment two months ago and has anticipated it every night since.
Eva finds herself waiting by the window the following night with her candle lit up. The sun has set, and no notes have danced through her window. Eva walks to it and rests her head on her hand. Her eyes wander to the apartment on the second floor. The windows are closed, and the room is dark. The writer waits two more nights. The light in the apartment across the street remains off.
On the fourth night, the writer dives into her work but leaves her window open. The warm breeze flows through the papers held down by paperweights of various buildings and monuments from around the world. A small note catches her ear. She stands and rushes over to the window. The last glow from the sun pierces through the opened window and into the apartment on the second floor. The figure of a man in a black sweater sitting on a piano bench brings a smile to the writer’s face. She listens intently.
Eva cocks her head as she follows the musician’s hands with her hearing. The style of the musician has changed. The song remains “Clair de Lune,” but the delivery and interpretation of the masterpiece have changed. His version of “Clair de Lune” is sadder and softer. Is this the same man? Eva listens to the sad musician play the melody five times before covering the keys. Eva watches the man stand up and walk out of view before returning to her desk.
After a few months, the style gradually changes from sad to sentimental. The softness remains, and the sentiment takes on a touch of sorrowful beauty. The beautiful tone compliments the essence of “Clair de Lune.” The man continues to play the song for four months, and Eva remains his faithful listener. Often, she wonders who this mysterious musician is but puts the intrigue to the back of her mind as she focuses on her work.
The bright, midday sun shines down on the tenant of the apartment on the third floor as she strolls through the park. The writer breathes in the fresh fall air and admires the colorful leaves illuminated by the sun. Families, lovers, and friends laugh, hop, and stroll through the trees. Painters and sketchers capture beautiful moments as vendors sell roasted nuts.
Beautiful notes dance through the crisp, autumn air. It is “Clair de Lune” played by a violin. The writer then catches the trail of notes and follows it. She comes to a small grove with benches around the perimeter and a fountain in the center. The back of a man in a black sweater appears. A violin is nestled under his chin. Eva begins walking along the perimeter of the small grove. The musical masterpiece concludes as Eva walks in front of the man. Their eyes meet.