I dreamed the piano had no pedals

I'm on stage in a hall I don't recognize — the ceiling tiles are wrong, the seats are the color of hospital curtains — and the piano has no pedals. Just three smooth nubs where they should be. I keep reaching down and finding nothing, and the sound is so dry, so honest, that I start playing differently. Lighter. I wake up with my hands still hovering above the sheets, and for a moment I'm grateful for a dream that took something away instead of adding noise.