The placing of pianos in common spaces has become commonplace. It's a thing. Crowds gather and applaud as some tortured and misunderstood genius plays Rhapsody in Blue or Your Song at a railway station or covered shopping mall. Then they all go off and about their business with hardly a care in the world. It's so ... atmospheric and not as uncouth as busking or as some would have it begging with a saxophone. For this piano however that glorious experience is now unlikely, it sits on a brown field waste land, exposed to the elephants and at the mercy of crows and seagulls. This is a city centre jungle. There are no passers by or willing listeners. It's a slow death. Plink ... plonk.
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