His fingers manoeuvre gingerly over each black and white key, producing reverberations of manipulative charm.
She dances along to every tune and twirls with every melody, like an artist bewitched by beauty, never to be reminded of its end.
A hurricane of emotions accompanies her movements: her mind, a labyrinth. Still she does not cease to dance, propelled by his words: Lass, think about the heart.
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