I watched her play. The mellow twilight of the day's end showering her, despite her struggles to play the piano right, she does not stop trying. Moments of hesitation from a wrong key pressed become more faint as she went on, confidence brimming in a smile.
   I saw a smile, but who's smile was it? Her eyes' shut and the rest blinded by light, the tune they play brings back an old feeling, familiar and yet not familiar enough. My heart desperately begged for an image of her face, and yet I could not picture it. This was a long time ago, yet how could I not remember what she looked like, I questioned. It clawed at me, asking why and how could I have forgotten, my lips unable to pry to answer.
   Now the room is empty and the piano has become covered by dust. The light danced still, but upon no one this time. It was as if the spotlight still waited for its player to return, and yet soon, that light will fade too. When it disappears, it will move on, nothing will necessarily get better but nothing gets necessarily worse. It has lost its pianist, and it will soon forget them as well, accepting it has been left behind. Yet, these wounds on my heart seemed like it will never heal, and desperately so, I refuse to accept these scars.

   "Hey, hey. Elaine. Sweetie."
   There was no one sitting at the piano and neither was I in that room anymore. The air was not stagnant but a soft breeze trickling with leaves. Jun and I were walking together along the path, with her leading the way, cheerfully marching as usual, the world for her to trek. As she moved, she leaned her upper body towards me, towering over me still, and then proceeded to ask.
   "Don't you think it was strange?"
   What was strange? I repeated my thought, "What was strange?"
   "We went along to play Clair de Lune. But considering our conversation before that..."
   "We should've played Arabesque?"
   "Yes, exactly!" She pats her temple, "I should've played Arabesque!"
   "You didn't even know what that meant."
   "Not the meaning, but I'm aware of Debussy's works! There was an Arabesque number 1 and 2, right?"
   "That's right."
   She turns away and groans in disappointment, frustrated at a loss opportunity for poetic meaning.

   The familiar sight of trees to the side of our path is replaced with the view of a river, barred off by a fence to prevent any children from falling into it. Jun places one of her fingers between the fence's bars and continues moving forward, the finger tapping against the fence over and over as we tread. Eventually, she picked up a broken branch and continued to move alongside the pitter-patter of the branch against the fence. Not very long after, I yanked it out of her hands and threw it over the fence, followed by the comical sound of water splashing.
   We come to a halt upon the end of the fence, greeted by a set of benches and a wide set of stairs that descends into the river, its steps mostly submerged. Somehow, I felt already tired from our little stroll, allowing my body to sway towards the inviting benches and collapsing upon it, not a single word spoken. Jun continued walking, passing me by, only to stop shortly afterwards to examine a nearby empty wooden stall.

   "What are you checking that out for, Jun?"
   "Oh, this? Someone is usually selling coconuts here. Like the whole thing. They'd chop the top off and stick a straw in there."
   "No one's selling any though?"
   "No... Not today." She circles the stall, looming her head over it as if there really was someone hiding behind, "It's a shame."

   She proceeded to sit opposite of me on the two sided bench, our backs against each other. She sighed.
   "When I was little, I'd come all the way here to see the man that sells coconuts, whenever I was really upset."
   "Was he a nice person?"
   "We barely talked." She paused for a moment, "...I just like coconuts." She fixed her stare to the sky, "Sometimes, though, the man didn't show up, and I'd wait sitting here quietly before accepting he wasn't coming that day." "And then one day, he stopped showing up."
   "...Did something happen to him?"
   "I don't know. But for a good while, this place was a bit more empty every day. And I didn't get any coconuts." She laughs a bit, "Needless to say, young me wasn't very pleased."
   Jun stood back up, stepping towards the stairs that lead to the river.
   "Something did happen eventually. On one of my strolls here, people were buying coconuts again. Someone else has opened shop in place of the old man."
   I got up and followed by her side.
   "I guess that someone else also thought that the world wasn't the way it was without coconuts being sold by this river. But I do wonder what that old man is doing now... Is he even well, I wonder..."
   She crouches down, knees bending, and places her hand in the river, "And now... No one's even here today."
   She lets out a big long sigh, before pulling out her hand and wiping it against the floor, as if she's looking for things to be disappointed of.
   Remembering the coconut story, I asked her, "Are you upset, Jun?"
   "Not at all, but I do wonder what that coconut man is up to... He wasn't old that time though he might be now. Did he finally get a real job? Maybe his coconut trees weren't good anymore? Maybe the new person is his son? I wouldn't know, I never asked him."
   Jun goes on and on about the coconut man, "If you never asked, you'll never get an answer. And one day, it'd be impossible to ever get a proper reply back. And since I didn't dare question, it became all but imagination to me, and then maybe I'll forget to remember to ask myself. In the end, I just hope he's well... or was well, at least. I only knew him as the coconut man, after all." Lowering her head, covering the sight of her eyes with her well-kept bangs, she mutters, "Maybe I'm afraid of being upset." "So now I come here often ever since I came back. Wanting to feel 'right'." She shakes her head, "Bah! But we can't spend all day preparing for the grey sky!" In a flash, she stood up and grabbed me by my arm, "If we can't get any coconuts, we'll just get something else! Now onward we go, Elaine, to chase the beautiful blue sky!" And so she dragged us both somewhere else, on another one way direction in the same flow as the river parallel to us, only able to accept whatever comes our way, relying on nothing but convenience in our search for a treat.