A darkened room. Cherrywood. All four walls covered with bookshelves. Cigar smoke still lingers in the thick forest green carpet. An old man is still sitting at his desk with yesterdays newspaper when...
"Papa! Why are you sitting in your study? Grandma said dinner is ready"
"Come on! Let's go eat."
He looks at his granddaughter and suddenly realizes how fast she has grown up. Wasn't it yesterday he was holding her as a newborn in the hospital? Now she's already twelve, although an outsider would guess much older.
"No, sweetie. Just a moment. Go get my Jean Toussaint for me."
"Alright Grandpa, but Grandma's gonna get mad."
"I'll tell her it's all my fault. Play Lament For Kenny."
The smooth jazz notes hit his hear as he closes his eyes. His mind drifts as it follows the music up and down. He can't tell if it makes him feel content or sad. Jazz has that way with him. It has that way with most people, he thinks.
"This is pretty good music Papa"
"I know sweetheart..."
The music continues to play as the two sit in the room. They both forget about dinner as the camera fades to black.