On the bus home, I was listening to Brendel play Beethoven’s twenty-seventh sonata. I was lost in the music, eyes closed, fingers racing to and fro across my knees.
When I opened my eyes, I noticed that the sandy-haired six-year-old in the seat opposite mine was also playing air piano. I looked up and gave him the smile of equals. He looked at me expressionlessly, his tiny hands darting expertly over the unseen keys.
Our gazes locked; I continued playing (it was an especially tricky passage).
And, to my delight, so did he.
by Teju Cole