I pull up my stool, and face the ivory keys
88 of them, all in a row. Intimidating, yet welcoming
I adjust my posture; I put my foot on the brass colored pedal
My fingers make their way to sit atop the keys
I slide my hands up and down the seemingly endless keyboard,
Savoring the feel of the smooth keys beneath the tips of my fingers
I finally settle myself and lay my fingers in their correct positions
I feel at home.
With my right thumb atop middle C, where everything starts, I begin to play.
My fingers striking an A or a G here or there, perhaps a B flat, if I feel so inclined
Soon the incoherent sounds come together to form a melody
Haunting; soothing, happy; sad, uplifting; depressing
A song begins to emerge from the depths of the beautiful black grand,
A song never heard, and never played; yet one I know perfectly
My hands now traveling the entire length of the keyboard and back again,
All in only a few seconds, countless notes and tones are heard
The sound begins to get louder, and more defined
I keep my foot on the sustain pedal religiously, only ever lifting it for a split second
My hands find their way to strike a long, powerful chord that I hold as if my life depends on it
I tilt my head back and close my eyes, admiring the beautiful sound that I am creating
Before long, my fingers begin to cramp;
The beautiful song turns back into a simple melody, consisting of only a few notes
My foot comes off the pedal; for my knee has become sore
I return to reality, coming back from my world of beautiful music
I slowly return my hands to their original positions;
My thumb resting on middle C, where everything ends
I run my hands across the keyboard once more, regretting every note I played
Regretting that I couldn't do better, but still knowing that I did just fine
I slowly scoot my stool back, and sit there, staring at the keys for a while
I remember so long ago, when I used to be so intimidated by these keys
Now all they do is bring back fond memories.
Fond memories that still bring tears to my eyes
I pull the cover down over the keyboard and stand up
I take a deep breath and walk to the door, but stop as I open it
I turn back to face the black grand, and notice another person beginning to play
They turn to me, and smile fondly, before looking back at the keys
I slip halfway out the door, then stop to speak;
"Regret nothing. You'll do fine," I say to the person at the piano
"I know," they return, as they begin to play.
I close the door behind me, wishing I could take a seat at the piano once more.