Catalyst

Just as the strings began their sorrowful tune, the sun decided that she had had enough of the clouds and showed her face where there were none. (This was most unexpected, as the people had more or less accepted that she would be gone 'til spring, save those bleak, warmth-less moments in winter when she admitted that the least she could do was peek from behind the endless white and remind everyone of what they were despairingly missing.) Several faces turned to the sky, as if they had already forgotten how it was not to live in endless grey. As the band grew in it's volume and sorrow, the sunlight became brighter. Now more of the audience were looking up, and many of them were gripped by a sense of surreality. The string instruments, which had been playing alone until now, were joined by a piano, a low, slow melody, and shortly after a flute, softly echoing the piano several octaves higher, the two melodies dancing around each other gracefully. Tears started trickling down a woman's cheeks, her still facing upwards, her eyes closed. Then, the sun disappeared again. The grey light returned, as did reality. The band continued to play.