Uncle Jack smiles as his fingers fly over the black and white keys,
the others clapping along to the funky rhythm,
their feet caught up in the river of sound,
legs competing with each other as the song comes to a close.
As a new tune begins, this time a sad old classic,
she thinks about her grandfather,
the lively, sage old man she remembers,
now seemingly just a wisp of smoke in the chimney.
He used to have this saying; "Music is like a Hurricane,
it picks you up like a leaf and once you're in its hand, theres no leaving until the storm is over."
That was before.
Before the tiniest hopeful hint of a smile was the only indication that he was still the spirited man he once was.
Tonight is missing something....
It's his laugh.