Chopin was dying. He wasn't sure when it would happen exactly, but he knew it would be soon.
His dear friend Lizst would visit every month at least.
Most of his other friends had visited him a few times too, except for Taki. Not that Chopin blamed her, he knew that she wouldn't want to watch him slowly wither from the same illness that had taken her father.
Still, Chopin wanted to leave something to each of them, so he wrote music, a piece for each of them, hoping to reach the terminal double bar before it was too late.