Dean began to grow tired of waiting when he saw the bottom of his wine glass. The old wicker chair creaked under his weight as he shifted. The old director used to sit here. He could never push himself to replace the old things. There where many fond memories of playing in this place as a child. The cliched sliding down the railing and throwing his bouncy ball around where the most vivid memories. Every now and then when the old man was feeling spunky he would slide down the railing like old times. He lightly shook his head at the thought. 
	He looked around the room and spotted the old Baldwin piano sitting under the stairs, in front of the window looking out onto the gardens. He stood, walked over to it and sat down on the bench. It to squeaked in the defining silence of the mansion. Outside the window it was dark, but the dim light of the moon was still casting shadows. He looked down at the piano recalling the cords to an old Russian song "When We Were at War." (( Listen here: [url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wOTD2KaAVjc[/url] )) Feeling nostalgic he gently place his fingers on the keys and started to play. His 'father' would always play this when he was drunk. When Dean was of age the Director taught him how to play it. Dean started to hum and rock back and forth with the song. Soon he himself broke into song singing with all of the gusto he could muster.