The Violinist On The ‘Unsinkable Ship’-

His bow drew across the wooden violin, dancing elegantly. Back and forth, again and again. Swift movements keeping in time with the others. He had poured so many of his days into these people, this music. The boat rocked, throwing off the young man's balance. His comrades seemed to be in the same situation, stumbling over their feet as they tried to keep steady hands to continue the piece. 'Why though?' he asked himself as he tried to regain his footing on the creaking boards. It was hard to think with all the yelling, the people in front of him tumbling over each other trying to leave the boat, but he focused on the question as he continued to move his fingers. Was it because he had poured years into his music? Or was it because he wanted to stand by his friends and complete the piece? Because he knew he wouldn't make it out alive? No, no that wasn't the case. It was because he had no fear for his life anymore. His days were monotonous, and the only thing that seemed to breathe life into him was his bow. Other than that, there was no point. He could at least give his few minutes left to the men and women scrambling on the slick wood, trying to escape death. But to him, this made no sense. Why live when there's so little to live for. So he kept playing, until the end. The water eventually engulfed the man. Death's freezing clutch had finally grasped him.