Finally his flat was empty. Almost empty! Only his old keyboard was left, lying there in pieces. Same as with his great love to Ruth. In both cases it was up to him to either mend it or finish it.
He always avoided the black or white view. For a balanced position he needed to play both, the white and the black keys. Now it was time for a decisive call. He could see it for the keyboard: put the pieces back together and play again.
One decision was all he could master, the other one would be taken for him.