/ / Her fingers drifted across the piano. Tip-toeing over the stark black and creamy white keys, they slowly danced with each other and played a melancholy note, flat and bitter. Then the mood changed as she moved her achy bones to the left- and as gracefully as she could, let them caress the happier keys. Of course, the piece never sounded like she wanted it to. In her head, the song rang like a tune from a music box, more... angelic, and calming. Why couldn’t she ever get it right? If only she had been more dedicated when she was young; instead of returning home to her awaiting teacher, she fled somewhere else. Somewhere fun and impulsive. Somewhere that would lead her to nowhere, which was right where she ended up.
Her aching hands flew to the instrument and smashed the operators in front of her. They cried out in pain. Her nerves became rattled.
Reaching for her walking cane, her body shifted toward the barred window that sat in her front wall. She’d put up the bars years ago, to shield her possessions from the many thieves of New York; now, there was nothing left to protect. This looking glass, once seeming to stand tall with a purpose, was now just a depressed barrier to the sunny life people were leading outside. She brought her body up off of the piano stool and shuffled herself to this window. Glancing between the cold black bars, she saw life blooming and blossoming- an energetic child pestering her mother for candy; an excited 16 year old letting his shaky hands grip the wheel of his new Honda. Outside her window, she saw stories being written, stories that would be told to generations to come. But inside, on the other side of this portal, life was dying. The final pages of her story were being told- and to whom? No one but the renters down the hall, who clearly didn’t want to listen. She understood why their bodies shifted and their eyes wandered as she led them into her existence- to them, she was just a rude, nagging landlady collecting food money.
Speaking of which...
She remembered what she’d tied that crimson ribbon to her finger for. It was time to get the rent from Joseph again.
She didn’t bother to fix herself up, or even check the mirror to see if she had today’s breakfast lodged between her teeth. She just left her house, not even making an effort to shut the door behind her. As she moved, her cane made a clacking sound- similar to high heels, except not in such a rush.
Going down the grey hall accompanied by portraits of friends and family long gone, she wondered if it was even worth it to let her space become occupied by people she hardly knew. “Well, it’s not like I’d use it... and I’m not so greedy as to keep space in this cram-jammed city vacant.” She reasoned with herself. She was always looking for justification- even in things that were simple.
Creeping up to her master bedroom, she admired something she’d always overlooked before. Her name was carved into the top- it’d been there since she was in her mother’s uterus. It was arched like a rainbow, and the font was in cursive, in frilly capital letters- “C H R I S T I N A." It was emowering to read- almost renewing, like springtime. That was her space. Her room. No one else belonged. Oh well. It was strange; she was starting to see the most common elements in a new light.
Taking one hand from her cane, she curled it into a ball and striked it against the door. Hunching forward to wait, she anticipated the friendly, bright face that would greet her. “I guess it is a nice thing to have him here...”
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Convoluted Logic
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