Deep in the countryside, I entered an old wooden school swallowed by nature. Inside, I discovered a tiny stage behind faded velvet curtains. A black Yamaha upright piano still stood proudly in the corner, beside a weathered xylophone — a ghostly music class frozen in time. Sunlight filtered through broken windows, casting soft patterns on the dusty floorboards. The piano was surprisingly resonant; I managed to record a few haunting notes. The other instrument — a vintage Yamaha vibraphone — added to the surreal atmosphere of this forgotten concert hall for children. It felt as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for the music to return.
