Eric sat at the piano, back to the window, a Bach prelude flowing from his fingers, heart racing.
The man with the gun stood at the piano, entranced.
“W-what are you going t-to do?” Eric stammered.
“I’m gonna kill you when you get to the end.”
Eric turned the page.
“I can give you money.”
“I don’t want money. I told you, I’m gonna kill you. Just keep playing.”
A gust blew in the open window.
The final note hung in the air.
“That was wonderful.”
He pressed the gun to Eric’s forehead.
“Now. Close your eyes.”