The Metronome
The violinist died. He suffered a heart attack while studying alone in his room. The neighbours only found out days later. Besides, he was a loner and quite unsociable. When, disgusted by the smell, they broke the door and discovered the body it was already in decomposition. His hand was tightly grasped to the violin and by his side - like a metallic tree sprouting out of his death - stood a music stand.
Above the stand, just before the illegible scores, a metronome went on with its infallible ticking – but more slowly and less loudly after so many hours of unceasing work – like a dog wagging its tail in front of its dead master.