The Baby Grand

849 Words4 Pages
They said he “filled their lives with joy” and that he was “dedicated to giving his audience an exceptional performance.” But he did not care for the silent, awaiting audience; he instead admired the piano in front of him. It was a baby grand, sleek and black, with a glossy coat that gave it an almost ethereal sheen. A perfect row of precisely 88 polished keys, alternating black and white, were set in a marvellous bed of flawless dark wood. It was a magnificent sight. He inhaled gently and sat down, hovering his long, slender fingers over the keys in anticipation. He waited awhile, closing his eyes calmly, and then began to play. Immediately, an easeful warmth spread through his cool body, as the familiar tone of Chopin’s Waltz Op. 64 in C# minor echoed throughout the hall. His fingers danced across the gleaming keys, gracefully executing the light melody, and as he began a series of fluid crescendos, he became fully engrossed in his own world, shrouding himself in the delicate notes of the piano. *** It was Martha that first came into his mind. He remembered their first dance, a slow waltz to the gentle harmony of Chopin, and his locked eyes did not leave hers for hours. As the tempo quickened, he could see her in her white dress, as beautiful as ever, as they walked up the aisle, hand in hand… A further cascade of pleasant notes fell from the piano, and the laughs of his children echoed delightfully as the melody danced on. How their voices were pure joy to his ears! But they, too, faded from his vision and he was young again, a mere child of unremarkable physique, running freely through the fields. He could feel the cool breeze running its fingers through his hair as he ran, enveloping him into nature’s embracing hands. C... ... middle of paper ... ...r voices mingled in the background, but he did not hear what they said. They had great difficulty separating him from the piano leg he had attached himself to. The piano seemed ancient with its dusty mahogany exterior embellished with intricate, but faded, gold details. Like the old man, the piano was hidden away from the world, unable to communicate its melodious voice. “This piano was once magnificent,” he thought to himself, “but it does not belong here.” Lying helplessly on the white stretcher, he watched sadly as the piano become smaller and smaller. A young boy, no more than five years of age, stared into his eyes as he was carried towards the awaiting vehicle. Clutching the boy’s hand, the mother called for him to move on. He stole one last glance at the old man and sprinted out of sight. A single tear dropped onto the concrete, unacknowledged by the world.

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