Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

¨Accordionist¨

Custom User Avatar
More by this author

The bell attached to the swinging front door chimed as a young man entered. His name was Sawyer and he was a young musician. Sawyer looked around the dusty, old thrift shop, scouring the shelves for anything that caught his attention. His shaggy blonde hair draped over his face, but not enough to cover his deep blue eyes. He came across an antique-looking accordion that was hiding in the nook of an old, worn-out bookshelf. Sawyer had been playing the accordion since he was eight years old. Immediately he picked it up and scanned his eyes over the treasure. He was astounded by how he found it in such a dull place. His fingers caressed the buttons in the most delicate way, as if his touch would break the fragile instrument. Carefully turning the accordion in his palm, Sawyer looked at the orange ripped and weathered price tag. The tag read, $300.
No way will I ever be able to afford this. Sawyer thought as he gazed at the beautiful masterpiece that he held in his hands. He looked at the old, gray man polishing jewelry at the front desk. Sawyer tucked the accordion under his oversized denim jacket. He continued to walk through the shop, looking up at the man every so often. Sawyer made it back towards the entrance with the accordion hidden, undetected by the man. With his back turned he thanked the man and calmly left the shop. He dashed home and put the accordion under his bed so nobody else could find it and laid in his wore down bed, his heart still raced, as he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback