As he sat at the piano, Nathan only felt darkness and doom.  Almost without thinking, Nathan began playing single notes with his right hand, in the middle register of the keyboard.  The simple tune evoked such sadness that Nathan felt tears welling in his eyes. 

             Why, dear God?  Why has this curse come upon me?

             He repeated the theme in thirds and then triads with his right hand.  Next the left hand followed in accompaniment, painting a portrait of utter hopelessness.  The slow and quiet theme continued as Nathan improvised subconsciously in a distant key.  With his fingers, he then chronicled his gradual descent into darkness, reflected by the theme which became even darker, deep in the bass register of the keyboard.  The theme carried no hope, only dread.  There would be no moment of triumph in this composition.   The left hand was now alone, first triads then thirds, then single notes, until the last sound faded away unresolved—no tonic, no super tonic.  That’s how his life would someday end.

             Nathan left the bench, but the hopeless theme continued in his mind, so melancholy, so heartbreakingly sad—a kindred accompaniment to his own feelings.