Blurry Images (2)

 I approached the case, stepping lightly among the mess. My hands reached it, dusted it, then unzipped it. What I saw afterwards had nothing to do with what surrounded me. It was something that I knew. Something that I can give a name to.
  It was a violin.

I did not know how it happened that I could finally recognize something. I began to check it carefully, touching with my fingers on its tight strings, making my way down to the waste-like bend to finally sense a kind of curving under my touch.  I flipped it over and saw the letter ''G'' curved unprofessionally on the wood.

My thought was now no more engaged to what this was an what that was. It was rabidly, randomly, falsely interpreting the look in my mother's eyes.

Rose always had the worried look in her eyes, but now it was more intense. Her pupils were dilated. Her naturally pale face went even paler. Her expression gave me the I-got-caught feeling. I was right because she ordered me not to enter the attic again for reasons she claimed she would explain later. She made sure the attic was locked, and hid the key. I waited until she climbed down the stairs, and I made a final look through the door's hole which gave me a view to where the violin lied. Again, it gleamed under the sun rays.
  And I remembered it.

The End

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