He thought about what he had become.
He had a gift--his mentor had told him so--but when he stepped onto the stage, the talent melted from his fingertips. Everyone stared. Even the black and white keys were like eyes, sleepy and reproachful.
The cash register keyboard was his new instrument, but he would never play it as beautifully.
© 2008 J.L. Steinhoff
Saturday, March 1, 2008
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