I had a dream last night.

He sang with all his heart and with all his soul.
There was no one else around but the house seemed somehow more alive than ever.

His hands touched the piano ever so gently, the fingers graciously dancing through the keyboard. The beautiful sound that rose from the old piano filled the big, quiet mansion and his cristal clear voice sang along with the melody.
He was pouring his very heart and his very soul into that song.
Words. Not just mere words. Thoughts that came from deep within. Thoughts that he had not said out loud before. He did not understand why or when those thoughts, those words appeared in his mind, but they were there and they wanted to come out, so he sang them. 
He closed his eyes and pretended that what was flashing through his mind was real.
He sang. He played. He imagined he was someone else, doing what he loved somewhere else.