舞台上,钢琴孤零零地伫立。宛似一场夜间的雨,落在少有行人和车辆的空旷水泥地,停车场;落在经由车库出入口眺望出去的漫漫长夜。一场雨,每一颗雨珠都籽粒饱满,晶莹剔透。砸落地面时发出自天而降的空气摩擦声,和地面四溅的水花一起形成古老、繁密的雨声。但无人倾听,无人走近,如一架钢琴在舞台中央静谧圣洁的形象。琴声没有响起,钢琴没有人弹,而且,从观众席空荡荡的过道望过去,一架孤零零的钢琴 On the stage, the piano stood alone. Wanted like a night of rain, landed in the open pedestrian and vehicles of the open concrete, parking; fell in the long gorge looking out through the garage entrance. A rain, every raindrop full of grain, crystal clear. Spread from the sky when the air hit the ground friction, and the ground splashing together to form the ancient, dense rain. But no one listened, no one approached, such as a piano in the middle of the stage quiet and holy image. The sound of the piano did not ring, the piano did not bounce, and, looking down from the auditorium empty passage, a solitary piano