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 …