Walking In The Same Way

Ivory keys crumpling under her light touch, anger dissapating with any note reached. Bars of the melody passed as quickly as the chords were played.

Not caring whether she was heard down the busy corridors, the pianist continued playing, rolling off a lullaby that relished in sadness; that brought back painful memoirs. But, knowing there was an end to every trouble, the girl kept playing, while a fresh bout of tears came to her eyes.

As the piece came to an end, the girl sat sobbing, wishing that, with every tear, her torment would wash away so smoothly.

The End

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