I am sitting in front of the piano, my fingers running swiftly from black to white keys, pressing up to five piano keys per hand. Then I sigh. Scales. I don't like scales. But, the ABRSM says we have to do it....so I do them. F minor harmonic, staccato. G# major scale, contrary motion, legato. As I reach my 3rd ascending octave, my older sister, Frica - a sixth former - , shouts
"KANOA! I thought I told you come down and wash the fruit on the tabletop?"
"I'm doing piano practise!" I yell back.
"They're cherries!" She tells me. I squeal and get off my stool as fast as I can.
"CHERRIES!!!" I scream, bouncing down the stairs.
"Here," Frica hands me a big bowl of red, huge, juicy, yummy, mouthwatering cherries. I stare at them for a whole 30 seconds before opening the tap.
5 minutes later, I had done washing them, and they were now clean.
"Uh, Kanoa? Why have the amount of cherries seem to have decreased by half?" she asks me.
"Have they?" I ask guiltily, "Are you sure? Um, I think they were like this when you handed them to me."
"Yeah, right. Whatever!" Frica says, picking out a cherry. She sighs and puts her head in her hands, "English coursework for tomorrow, arghh!" Then she gets a small plate from the cupboards, grabs a few cherries and leaves to go upstairs.