The Piano
She sits slumped over the black and white keys, hands in her lap. Her eyes are closed as she slowly rocks forward, letting her head drop. She stops, her nose so close to one of the keys it tingles in anticipation of the actual touch. A single tear forms in the corner of her closed eyelid and begins it’s descent down the slope of her nose. It tickles her skin yet she makes no effort to interrupt its descent. Now it clings to the tip of her nose and stretches, bridging the gap momentarily between emotion and release.
Her hands, flaccid with grief, find their way to the keys. Time to play. Time to escape. Time to transfer the grief into something palpable. A song for her sorrow. The fact that she stumbles through the creation does not hinder her emotion. She is still slumped over the keys as her fingers fumble for the notes that will ring out the true feelings of her soul in this moment. Her body sways side to side, back and forth, trembling at times under the weight of so much feeling. But as she continues she finds herself getting stronger, or perhaps her burden getting lighter.
She still sways but with an upended posture. Her body now trembles with release. She weeps freely, salty drops splashing onto the keys below. Though blinded by tears, her fingers more sure of their course, play the right notes effortlessly. They convey adequately the depth of her sorrow, and then suddenly, something she did not expect. This, a mistake of her fingers, yet it rings true in her heart. She thought to be consumed with grief, but sure as her fingers played it out over the keys, she feels it. Hope. Determination.
She finds the despair is flushed from her by a desire to overcome. She weeps no more with sorrow but with conviction in her ability to choose. She can choose for her life to play out differently. She can choose to remember without being brought down into despair. She can choose to face the darkest parts of herself without thought of escape or denial.
She will not let the song of her soul be one of monotony.
This post was entered in January’s Write-Away Contest at Scribbit
Comments
16 Responses to “The Piano”
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Writing -
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Wow! I felt like I was sitting right there on the bench. Wonderful piece!
Definitely well written–so glad you entered it!
I’m speechless. That was incredible.
Beautiful writing. Loved it! It reminded me of my youth, when my Mom forced us to sit and practice the piano for 4 hours a day. That wasn’t too pleasant….
But I loved this piece!! Thanks for sharing. :-)
Scared me at first… I was wondering if something terrible had happened! Your piece was amazing - what wonderful imagery… maybe it’s because I know the emotion of playing the piano, but it really touched me!
beautiful story, summer. i loved it!
Positively beautiful! Thanks for your inspiring words.
That was written so beautifully. It engulfed my imagination!
wonderfully written, summer!
Wow! That was well done. Say, I have a question for you if you don’t mind…how did you get your OpenID to work? Mine just doesn’t seem to “stick.”
Wow! this post was SO REAL to me. It brought back a time when I was a piano major in college playing one of Brahms’ Intermezzi (I don’t remember which one) I had remembered that my professor had said that the Intermezzi were not meant to be performed but to be played for one’s own emotion. I remember after a bad break-up (I don’t even remember which guy) I sat down to play the piece, crying the whole time. I think it was the best I had ever played the piece both then, and since. Your really brought out the emotion of the moment. I can’t wait to read more of your posts in the future.
I love to let my emotions go into my fingers and onto the keys. The best therapy ever! An artist at work. This was amazing. Thanks for sharing it!
That was just brilliant Summer. Wish we could vote - you’d have mine for sure!
I loved this! I relate to it rather well :)
I’ve always loved your writing. This piece is another reason why…
Music is truly an escape. It’s one reason I studied piano in college and still keep our piano around.