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Wind blew soft whispers through the curtains. "I can't," she replied, continuing her melancholy melody. Salt tears streamed from her eyes. Through the rivers of lost love and mournful music, she finished her music and wept.
Gentle fingers rested on her shoulder. "Keep playing," a voice whispered through her hair. "Keep playing."
She closed the lid of the piano. "I can't," she repeated. "It hurts."
"Keep playing."
Listening to the whispers, she played her music again and again. She kept playing. On and on through the night, she played. She neither stopped nor paused. Her emotions continued flowing through her fingers. By the end of the night, her melodies were no longer filled with love and hurt. "I can," she sighed at the break of the dawn.