Green fingers

The music was pure, light, golden. Like triangles in the morning air, it wafted through the air like a sweet flower blossoming, a rose cupped in a childs hand.
Then, it changed. As it began to mount, my heart pounded crazily, so fast I felt faint. As I began to sweat, the high notes were thumped and bnaged on one after another, in a cacophany of incredible sound.
Then, it started all over again. I breathed deeply, letting all my wishes escape in the cold misty air, in a warm breath. Then, it stopped, and all of the emotion I had been experiencing suddenly shot away from me, a cork out of a bottle, and I was left with a sheet of music in front of me and my hands still on the Piano.