Her feet sank into the rough sand as she positioned herself in front of the keys. A finger ran softly across the ivory, its distant coldness just as sharp as the early morning chill. She closed her eyes for a moment, hearing the gentle ebbing of the waves, feeling the gentle caress of the ocean breeze.

Then, she struck a note. The spark of a memory lit up in her eyes. Another note, another moment manifested from the past. Soon, her fingers were dancing skillfully across the keys, and her mind started remembering vivid pictures, entire stories. Here she was, her first day in town, young and naive. There she was, making new friends, meeting the person who would soon turn her life into a sweet melody. There she was, blindly taking a leap -- hoping love would give her wings to fly.

As her mind raced, the notes built up to a soulful crescendo. Enamored by her concerto, the wind picked up in bursts, bringing with it the gushing melodies of the sea itself. Her thoughts soared through days of sun and laughter, through nights of moonlight and passion, through a paradise woven by the cadence of trills and sweet nothings.

Then, suddenly as it had begun, the music stopped. Around her, the wind continued to howl against the gray skies, and the tide began to spray at her bare feet. The piano stood silent as a lone teardrop fell on an ebony key.

She struck two more keys, but she stopped and shook her head. That wasn't the scale -- she had slid from G to E minor.

The winds carried away a muffled sob, the start of a weeping bar she now had to play.