It was a quite day and she found herself walking about the attic in her old home. Light came in from the window and gave the place an old feel. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, but she didn’t mind. There were lots of memories here and she felt them.
“I’m…usually, hard … to hold on to…” The words came softly as she stepped lightly, bringing up small puffs of dust where her feet hit the floor. She spoke to no one, believing she was the only one in this place. “You mean well, but… you make this hard…on… me.”
As she traversed the room her eyes fell on the piano. It was heavily coated with dust that it was hard to tell at first glance the original color. She headed towards it and ran her forefinger along the hood, wiping up the dust. “They all say things you want to hear,” she sing-sang the words as she pushed back the bench and sat at the dusty piano. A hard blow of air given to the keys to remove some of the dust before her fingers settled over the ivories and tested the chords. “And my heavy heart… sinks deep, down, under you.” She continued to sing.
The old piano was only slightly off tune, but that didn’t matter much at the moment. There was no one else here. Right? Just her, the piano, and the dusty figures. She hung her head over the keys and drew in a deep sigh, strands of her hair falling over her shoulders.
Remnants of the last played note were fading from the air. She was so focused in on herself that she failed to hear the faint footsteps heading up the attic steps.
When her fingers hit the keys again the music was stronger and faster. “I’m not going to write you to stay. If your heart is nowhere in it, I don’t want it for a minute. Oh, I’ll walk the seven seas when I believe that there’s a reason to write you . . .” The music and words suddenly stopped as her dusty fingers now cradled her head. At the same time the one who had been walking up the steps was now leaning in the doorway watching. She was still oblivious to any other occupants in the room.
The person stepped forward and stopped just as another note hit the air. “I’m trying . . . to let you hear me as I am.” Her fingers hovered over the keys, head still bowed and eyes downward.
Silence. The silence hung until the new entrant spoke. “I hear you.”