"i need more freedom," she said as she craned her neck to gaze delicately, longingly out the window. the outside world staring in at her, with its giant yellow cat-eyes, the stickysweet smell of the rain as it swells with her ache for fresh air.
She sighs deep and full, turning to the insufficient electric keyboard sitting atop the kitchen table. She can see it, clearly, understanding whole step, whole step, half... but it's still a mystery, a myriad of possibilities, of ups, downs, dives, crosses, crescendos, an entire world to create inside the mind and outward flowing with the pitterpatter of fingers to keys corresponding to the patterpitter of the rain.
"I need a pencil," as she waits for her thoughts to escape, artist pencil to rough composing papyrus built for a ship's worth of words and notes; tangible reminders of a rainy day. the trapped girl sits and composes the dark.