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Untitled as of Yet - Ch. 1

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Olivia sat at the piano, studying the hand-written notes on the imitation parchment in front of her. Holly, her best friend, had somehow managed to score a copy of a copy of a copy (times who knows how many) of Beethoven’s Sonata in C minor, op. 13, “Pathetique”.

Holly was a music extraordinaire. She had connections to anyone you would care to name in the local arts community due to her extensive involvement in the area’s opera company and philharmonic. She had the voice of an angel and was nothing short of a wizard on the cello.

Olivia loved music as well, but never had quite the knack for it that Holly had. Regardless, her favorite room in her house was her music room/library. It was by no means the largest room, but it had the most appeal.

In one corner sat a large, comfortable recliner and a floor lamp. Across from that there were three large bookcases, covering the entire wall. Very nearly every inch of these bookcases were lined with books - everything and anything ranging from old 14th century classics to fantasy to romance novels to really obscure sci-fi. And, of course, one or two shelves were devoted entirely to music.

Against the back wall sat a beautiful piano next to a wide, heavily curtained window, and leaning against the piano, a German violin.

And it was at this piano, in her very favorite room, that Olivia sat staring at the Beethoven piece. her fingers danced lightly across the ebony and ivory keys, guessing at the notes as she sight-read.

She lifted her gaze from the music momentarily to glance at the roman-numeral clock hanging above the bookshelves.

It was nearly ten at night, and realizing that she should probably head to bed, Olivia forced herself away from the music.

Shuffling through the kitchen, she slid her thick hairband out of her hair, letting an unruly mess of chocolate-brown curls cascade down her back.

A light was blinking by her computer, which she quickly recognized as her answering machine. Although a bit odd, considering she hadn’t been out long enough to miss any calls, Olivia pressed the flashing button.

Immediately, an unpleasantly familiar voice began speaking.

“Hey Liv, this is Cameron Welsh. Again, I know. I just noticed you haven’t been returning any of my calls lately, and I wanted to check up on you, see how you are doing. That’s all. Please call me back. I haven’t heard from you in so long. I’ll talk to you later I guess. Bye.”

Olivia didn’t waste a second before striking (rather harshly) the button to delete the message.

Cameron, Olivia’s last boyfriend, had been calling nearly every other week for the past five months, ever since she broke off the relationship.

Every call, every message, had that same soft, wounded tone. And always a note of regret in his voice, almost like he had broken her heart instead of the other way around.

She never called him back. Not once. She kept hoping that someday he might just give up, but it never happened.

Olivia groaned in frustration, shuffled into her room, turned off the lights and flopped right into bed.

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writer24/7/365 said...
Feb. 15, 2010 at 2:13 pm:
This is so beautiful. It's undescribable, fanatastic. Thank goodness ther's more.
BookFreak14 replied...
May 27, 2011 at 3:50 pm :
Wonderful. I can't wait to read the rest of it:)
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