Raya sighed, her birthday had been taxing, and… fun. She found herself smiling as her mind recounted the events of the day while trying to remember the last time she had done something so pointless, simply for the fun of it. Despite her “forced” enjoyment of the day, the song from the morning had been at the back of her mind through it all. With the day coming to an end, and having banished everyone from her house. She sat once more at the piano, finally alone.
Gently she lifted the cover from the keys and started to play. Her bandaged hands moved stiffly across the keys while her eyes remained fixed on the score. Slow notes washed over the parlor and through the halls. Though the tune was simple; her play was rigid, mechanical… hollow.
She made it several bars before a mistake made her stop. She glared a the sheet music, debating throwing it against the wall, before moving to continue. “No” She paused. “This wasn’t how we played…” Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, set her hands again and started over.
A single mournful note drew the memory forth from so long ago. She held the key, letting it reverberate alone, painting her imagination with colors that swirled like an oil painting. As the echos began to die another sorrowful note came. Soft forms took shape from the shifting colors; a stage took shape, red curtains on either side. Sconces along the edge brightening the stage while shrouding the audience in blackness. Another note, and she was there, a teenager before the piano.
A chord set the images in motion; her younger self shifting from note to note without truly moving, as though each was an image in a slow projector. A pattern emerged, two somber notes followed by a joyful chord, then two joyful notes and a somber chord. A slow three step dance along the range of keys that promised balance, even if the bad sometimes outweighed the good.
When she heard the violin; a swirl of white, brown, and peach, took form as a figure, sitting atop the piano. Violin already to her cheek, her sister began to play, the only thing moving normally in the scene of shifting images. The bow arced across the strings issuing slow swells that mirrored the notes her younger self played, Raya found she had been humming the part without thinking.
They played off each-other, one moving in the foreground the other changing from one position to the next In the background, then swapping as the piece changed the focus. Hope and despair, joy and sorrow, each balanced by one player or the other.
As the piece ended, with only echoes to fuel them, the colors began to fade. She watched both figures stand and bow to the applause before disappearing to the darkness.
Raya opened her eyes and took her hands from the keys. She smiled thoughtfully as tears of nostalgia ran slowly down her cheek. Collecting herself, she wiped the tears from her face. “Shall we play another?” She asked the memory of one who was no-longer here, before setting her hands on the keys again and closing her eyes.