The lone , haunting sound of a flute filled the air , shattering the stark serenity of the twilight hour .

I wondered again , about the source of that heart-wrenching yet nostalgic melody that penetrated the darkness .

For three weeks , the wistful sound had become my constant companion ,  like a faithful ally helping to soothe my fears . I embraced it as one would an old familiar friend .

Seconds , or was it minutes , or an hour maybe , passed .

I waited expectantly , with bated breathe , for the dying strains , which lingered imperceptibly , almost painfully , and then receded into the distant night , becoming fainter and fainter …

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