I dreamed I tuned a piano made of clouds

It was floating above a city that didn’t exist, and the keys were mist that only responded when you hummed in just the right key. I spent hours adjusting the dampers—each one a tiny storm cloud, shifting its weight to keep the notes from collapsing. When I finished, the piano played itself for an hour, but no one heard it. Not even me. I woke up with the taste of rain on my tongue.