Marshall 1

Maddie Marshall
Mrs. Rutan
AP Literature
October 21, 2019

Staccato Thoughts

The ivory keys felt unfamiliar under the pads of my fingertips.

I play a note. ​Wrong​. I play a measure. ​Stumble.​
Note by note, measure by measure, line by line,
Wrong - wrong - wrong - wrong - wrong -
The key hit the base, the string in the depths
Of the piano striking out-of-tune.

I look at my trembling fingers, shifting between keys

E sharp? F? A minor? F sharp? G? D minor?
I struggle to remember. My eyes shifting from paper
To piano to paper to piano. Paper. Piano.
My vision blurs ─

The old piano smelled of mildew and dust

Emanating from deep inside. The too familiar scent
Puffing out with each note, vibrating through the air
And away with the wind.

My fingers licked the keys, first the ivory then the sugar pine.
The ivory tasted of metal - harsh, cold,
The sugar pine tasted oh so sweet. Bitter sweet.
The first page rich and smooth like dark chocolate
The end tasting cold and bitter.

Finally. My foot pressed down on the pedal

Reaching the earth beneath it.
The unintended staccato notes began to flow together cohesively,
The minor notes turned major;
It sped up and slowed down,
The crescendo crashed and
Silence filled the room;
 Marshall 2

The song took flight with the wind

And disappeared into the sky.