After a night filled with the sound of music (but only in my head of course). I woke up early and left a note on the door for mom, no use in a repeat of yesterday, and slipped outside.
The wave of fresh air, thick with the smell of dew and honeysuckle hit me, and all I could do was stand there, in awe.
Finally my legs started the farmiliar trek to the old house, back to that piano, which was becoming home for me.
I got to the door, slid it open and stepped inside, noticing for the first time how run down the house was.
I shrugged to myself. I was 10, I couldn’t fix it myself, no use in trying…
I returned to my comfortable place on the piano bench and repeated my routine.
Place fingers,
Close eyes,
Deep breath,
Play.
My fingers slid up and down the white keys with an ease that is completely unnatural in a kid who just touched a piano for the first time four days ago, but I didn’t think about that, I just got lost in the music. After all, that’s what all this piano stuff was about for me anyways.