It stood majestically by the fireplace.

The cackling of the fire echoed around the room filled with silence caused by the momentary pause.

And then she continued again.

Her hands moved like the river through light and darkness.

I saw the spirit of the fire shine across her face as she slowed time down.

She was calm.

Her eyes told a thousand stories.

With every note, I was pulled into a deeper trance than before.

She had her mother’s eyes.

I saw how the veins revealed themselves as she moved her hands.

Part of the blood that flowed through her was mine.

Every time she did something different, she’d look up to me and see if I saw her do it.

The piano gave out mere sounds.

But when she sits behind one,

It was music.


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