A sad man, well dressed and young, is sitting on his oaken piano bench in a
large room, all alone, trying to compose a song.  He has a strained look on his
handsome face, a look of memories that haunt and disturb him.  He plucks away,
trying a chord or two.  Then, feeling inspired, he starts playing a mournful song.
     The notes, at first, float through the dim, vast room.  They float over the dull,
dust covered floor.  Then, sadly, the notes are imbued into the ornate doors, the
high, decorative walls, and the dark, expansive ceiling.  When they are absorbed, they
leave behind an eerie and ominous silence, leaving the man alone, again.
     The man looks around the dismal room, expecting to hear the echo of the
music.  Instead, he hears the dreadful silence, like he has in that room for many
years.  He plucks again on the fine, ivory keys, and the notes float into the walls
again, giving him no company.
     He then looks outside and sees it is raining a fine and misty rain.  Because of
the humidity of the room and his lack of enthusiasm, he decides that he needs some
fresh air.  The man opens the large stained glass window, letting a cool mist in.  The
mist envelops the man and his piano.   With the piano being the only furniture in
the room, the room normally looks bare, but this fog makes the room appear empty
to the uncareful  observer. He knows the damp air might ruin his piano, but he does
not care for his piano, at least not anymore.   The reason that he no longer cares
about this piece of furniture, is not because it is worthless.  Many artists consider his
piano to be a priceless instrument, but because it brings up his not so distant past.
     A few years ago, he had been an important somebody.  He was Hubert
Hofferman, famed composer, boy wonder and had once been thought of as the
reincarnation of Mozart.  Now, he is a nobody, ruined before middle age, broken
down and wasted.  He is now Hugh Smith, a rich, hopelessly lonely man.  He hasn't
been Hubert for several years, why should he bring up the bad memories now?
     The piano room is not the only room in the house, it is just the only room that
Hugh spends any time in.  This is the only room on his wing that is decorated at all. 
He could afford many more pleasantries, if he wanted, but this room is all that has
ever mattered to him.  It is his only source of life.  He has sworn several times that he
would give up this monotonous life style, but this is all he has to live for, and all he
has ever known.
     The only other signs of life in this large, gloomy mansion are his butler,
Geoffrey, and Strauss, his cook.  Every once in a while, the two will have a party in
the other wing.  They figure if there is a large house, and lots of money, why not
enjoy it?  They sometimes will show off to their guests by opening the door to the
piano room and show Hugh, laying down on the bench, when they think he is asleep,
and leave laughing at him and his pathetic life.  Hugh sometimes sees this and says
nothing, because he no longer worries about others' opinions.  The only other times
that he sees anyone is when Strauss knocks on the ornate door, twice a day, when he
is dropping off Hugh's lunch and dinner, which he eats at the piano.
     He has not always lived this way.  It seems to him to be years, maybe lifetimes
ago when his parents lived here, in this very house, with him.  Hugh's parents loved
him and tried to show this love by buying him this expensive, magnificent, black,
shiny grand piano.  Hugh needed more than a gift, he needed affection. To solve that
problem, his parents hired him a tutor, a radiant young lady that loved Hugh like her
own son.  He looked up to her a lot and fell in love with her, because he was very
young and impressionable, and she was worth loving.  Not only beautiful, she had a
heart of gold and a simple understanding that would reach into your soul and
captivate you.  She was admired by many men, but none of them could appreciate
her for whom she was, only for how she looked.  Hugh, being unable to express his
feelings for this wonderful lady, called her the only thing that he thought that could
describe her, Madam Butterfly.  He had always admired butterflies for their beauty
and delicacy, and he also was amazed at how butterflies came from an ugly, fuzzy
worm.  He wondered when he to could become a butterfly, and leave this cocoon
behind.
     Madam Butterfly promised Hugh that she would always be there for him and
that she would not leave him until he was ready.  She was the one that taught him
how to play the piano, and was, secretly, the subject of all his songs.  She told him
that by playing the piano, he could become in touch with his feelings and that he
could escape this unpleasant room. 
     She kept her deal, that is until she contracted the same disease that Hugh's
parents had.  The disease was bad enough that the doctor would not allow Hugh to
see his parents or his tutor, which depressed him.  The three died within two hours,
making Hugh even more despondent, not because of his parents dying, but for
Madam Butterfly leaving him forever.  This tragic loss left Hugh alone in a large
house with a lot of money and no happiness.
     This loss of love, friendship and companionship is why he is now trying to
write.  He is trying to express his grief and anguish through his piano.  Through the
pearly, ivory keys, he is trying to release himself and escape from this wooden coffin
of a room.  He has tried to release himself many times before, and this is as far as he
has ever gotten.  He finally decides to play, no matter what pain surfaces, even if it
means playing all night long.
     Hugh tries to play a few chords, and a song starts to form from the notes.  It
starts out sad and slow, anguish seeping through it, devouring everything, then hope
starts to surface and the song starts to pick up.  The notes flow out the window,
under and around the door.  He pauses and hears the notes echo.  He smiles and the
song keeps playing.  Geoffrey and Strauss pause also.  Is that music they hear?  They
listen in amazement to this wonderful song.  This song is the most immaculate, heart
wrenching song ever played.  If you would have heard it, you would have sworn
angels were singing and a full symphony was playing, and maybe it really happened
that way.  
     Outside, the rain is letting up and the sky is beginning to clear up.  The song
keeps playing.  For the first time in years, sun light streams in through the window. 
The light began to dance, in time to the music, on the well waxed wooden floor,
shining on to the walls and bright ceiling.  Hugh looked more alive and less troubled,
even a little hopeful.  The song keeps playing.
     The house starts to sway with the music that is ringing in every room.  Instead
of absorbing the music, the house is now absorbed by the song.  Geoffrey and Strauss
get teary eyed, from the song's pure beauty and from the pain that is being released
in Hugh's masterpiece.  This is why he learned to play the piano, for the pure
amazement and beauty and the healing of the soul.
     As Hugh was finishing his sonnet, a small, delicate shadow formed on the
bright stained glass window.  Then in radiant colors, making the window look dull
and grey, a beautiful butterfly came softly floating in.  It glittered and shined in the
sunlight.  Hugh, being enthralled with his song, didn't see the butterfly until the echo
of the last note rang.  He turned, looked at the butterfly, and smiled a smile of
understanding and love.  And slowly, a single tear fell, not from Hugh, but from this
magnificent apparition as it flew out of the window. Hugh understood the unspoken
message, nodded, and the song kept playing.