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The Player and The Piano

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She lowered herself on the piano stool, as gracefully as an elephant. To be graceful, she thought, one had to be slim and beautiful. Both of those things she certainly was not. Regardless of whether she was right, she had never tried to be graceful, so she wasn't. She rested her hands on the worn ivory keys, grown rough with age. The body was un-sanded and full of splitters. It was not grand and, consequently, did not produce a grand noise. The instrument, much like the player, was often forgotten and ignored. While both were often surrounded by people, they were never able to be noticed.

The player turned to the rest of the room. For once, all eyes were on her. She realized, now, that maybe she might be better suited for her life in the wallpaper. For all her misgivings, though, she was determined and she wouldn’t back down. She was more determined than anyone in the room. She was determined to leave them in awe when she was done. She'd leave them wondering who this girl was and why they had never seen her before. Best of all, they'd never dare forget about her, not even for a second. This was her chance, and she would not waste.

So, she began.

Like a crack of the lightning in a dry summer night, the song began with heavy accents and a forte that shook the room. The audience who had been leaning in with anticipation now jumped, in unison, at the sudden noise. As if a heavy wind was perpetually blowing on them, they were all leaning as far back in their chairs as they could.

The player's knotty fingers flew across the keys so fast, that you couldn't see them press each key. She felt wonderful, even commenting to herself with pleasure, how well the song sounded. The crowd was in wonder, eyes glued to her, trying desperately to keep up with her fingers. She almost let herself laugh with giddiness.

And then, she stumbled.

Just one wrong note and the crowd seemed snapped out of her trance. Just one wrong note, sealed her in the wallpaper with superglue. Just one wrong note condemned both player and piano to never be remembered and never be cared for.

She tried desperately to pick up the song, but it had already slipped through her fingers and fallen into the abyss of no return. She let all of the noise from the piano fade before she fled the room in shame.

Her shame didn't last long, though for no one in the room remembered what she looked like.



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