Piano Keys

October 27, 2008
My fingers glided over the smooth keys, pressing down on them softly when the right time came along. It was the last time that I would ever play the convoluted instrument. Tomorrow a few men would come to seize it. If there were something more valuable in my tiny apartment I would sell it in a heartbeat. The last item that belonged to my mother has to go, there’s no way of getting around it. I’ve tried everything, working double shifts, selling basic appliances, but it still wasn’t enough. My mind pondered if I would ever touch another piano; even if I did it wouldn’t feel the same as my mother’s. I remembered the day she left the instrument, all too well. It was the fifth of October and she was lying in her hospital bed as usual. The cancer had spread all too quickly. It was the sixth month of this discovery, and the last month according to her doctor. She had stopped speaking a couple weeks before, her body was too weak. Her skin had faded into a light shade of white, her blue eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, it had looked like she was already dead. I’d never had to do anything harder than look into the eyes of my dying mother, she didn’t seem to see me and after that day I would never see her again.





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