It's How to Kill a Piano. My name's George Tait. Thanks so much
for joining us again. These are going to be coming out every two weeks
on a Monday. I know season one, we did this weekly. However,
life has changed, times have changed, and our production schedule is a
little bit more complex. I am the only one working on these things.
I do the piano, I do the writing, I do the recording,
I do the editing. So two weeks it is so. Without further ado,
here's the next chapter of How To Kill a Piano, Chapter twenty two,
Cordiva and Sharon. The universe is made up of many small, cozy
little towns nestled between rolling hills and concrete beanstalks. These were spaces created by
those who dared to dream them into being and those who dreamed of escape.
It's in between those spaces that a curious phenomenon haunts the townsfolk who speak in
hush tones about the enigmatic character known as Death. But Death was not what
they expected. Death had many forms. Though she preferred a cat most of
the time and called herself Cordiva, her pure white coat was impossible to miss,
even when she traversed through the darkness, she would glow under the light
of the night sky as each star reflected on the tips of each hair on
her pure white coat. To the elderly, Death was a retired librarian who
spent her days tending to the towns forgotten library. With a kind smile and
a soft voice, the librarian would sit with the elderly, reading them their
favorite books and sharing stories of far off lands. When it was their time,
she would lead them into a peaceful slumber, and they would pass away
with a contented smile. For the young and adventuress, Death took the shape
of an infamous pirate captain. She would appear in a swirl of mist,
dressed in tattered, weathered clothing. The pirate would challenge them to daring quests
full of danger and excitement. The pirate captain would regale those she took on
his crew with fantastical stories of far off lands, and those who completed her
challenges were granted long, fulfilling lives. It was said that the spirit of
adventure kept them alive, and they would live to tell their tales to generations
to come. Those who failed her challenges, however, would be pulled into
the waters falling asleep as liquid filled their lungs, leaving them to dream of
their new lives and future mistakes. To artists and dreamers, Death manifested as
a mysterious, masked figure named Pluto. Pluto was a master of all things
creative. She would inspire painters to create masterpieces, musicians to compose symphonies,
and writers to pen epic novels like this one. Most art dies, it's
forgotten over time, its meaning left to wrought slowly back into the atoms that
it was created from. Sometimes it was twisted into new meanings never intended.
Bluto made it their mission that when their creative work was done, she would
gently close her eyes and ensure that the artistic legacy would live on for eternity
somewhere else. For the children, Death preferred the form of a playful,
feline companion. She would chase beams of moonlight and pounce on imaginary creatures,
captivating the young with her enchanting antics. When a child was nearing the end
of their childhood, Death would lie beside them, comforting them as they transitioned
into adulthood. Almost every child dies before their time by becoming an adult.
For the sick, and suffering, Cordiva would curl up on their laps,
purring softly. Her gentle purring would soothe their troubled hearts, and in the
quiet moments they found peace together. Death had a healing touch, easing their
pain and fear, and when the time was right, Cordiva would place a
paw on the back of their hand and they would drift away into a peaceful,
painless slumber. In our town, death was not feared. Instead,
death was understood as a friend who took on many forms, guiding each soul
on its unique journey. The townsfolk lived their lives with a deep appreciation for
the wisdom, adventure, creativity, compassion, and joy that death brought to
our world. Cordeva's most profound gift was her ability to guide those who were
lost or unsure of their path. She would walk alongside the confused, her
tale flicking in the direction they needed to go. With every step they took,
clarity would dawn upon them until they found their way forward. As the
years passed, the townsfolk learned that death was not the end, but a
transition into something new and beautiful, whether it was the transition from youth to
adulthood, from sickness to peace, or from life to whatever comes next.
Gordiva was there to guide them gently into that unknown. Where Cordiva acted as
comfort for the living, Charon acted as comfort with a dead. They spent
countless ages farying that dearly departed across the quiet, watery depths of the in
between, boating them down into their eventual eternal resting places. Sharon wasn't used
to walking any of the surface worlds. On most days, Charon's existence revolved
around fulfilling Cordifa's commands, dutifully carrying out her bidding and ensuring the seamless transition
of souls into the after life. However, on Halloween, a day when
the living and dead intertwined, Charon found a rare reprieve from the constant grind
of their responsibilities. Halloween with the anniversary of the day they met Sarah.
It was also the anniversary of the day Sarah started to say good bye to
Charlie. That concludes chapter twenty two of How to Kill a Piano. As
always, I'm George Tate. This was written by me. The music was
played live to tape on my Yamaha electric piano and You can of course reach
us at how to Kill a Piano dot com, leave us a message if
you'd like, and just stay updated on the general state of this story.
Stay tuned because there are more episodes to come.