"Play it again, Sam."
"Aw, Frodo, you don't want to hear that..."
"You played it for HER you can play it for ME!" Frodo shouted. Sam sighed and turned to the piano again. The clear notes of the old, gentle song crushed Frodo's head to the top of the bar and he pawed a hand through his hair as if he could pull his memories out. The very air tasted of the dust of bitter love-lost and Frodo suddenly threw a shot glass against the wall. It didn't help. Sam stopped playing.
"Oh, Sam." Frodo moaned. "Of all the gin joints in all the cities in all the world...she had to walk into mine."
~