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The Piano

Author: Syrinx
ASL Info:    16/F/US
Elite Ratio:    6.16 - 35 /30 /12
Words: 386
Class/Type: Prose /Misc
Total Views: 1048
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 2014


Hello everyone...I'm new and this is my very first post. It's a sort of prose/parable. Please tell me what you think and don't hesitate to be persnickety. And no, this is not about me.

The Piano

There once was a piano. A grand piano, a shining black lake on the surface, a mass of cords and strings, all intertwined, underneath. The piano would live for the hours when the pianist would sit down and stroke the keys on its back with long, slender fingers, and send shivers down all the cords and strings, all intertwined, and the most beautiful music would come out of it. The piano could soar through the air on the music like it was a magic carpet, and glide through the sea and let waves of the beautiful music wash over it as the pianist’s fingers took on a life of their own and danced nimbly across the keys during the joyous pieces, and slid slowly and gracefully during the sad, harmonic ones. Even though, in reality, the piano could not move from its place in the center of the music room. And when the pianist would leave, and the lights would grow dark, the piano would wait patiently, thinking only of the unique ecstasy of making music, of doing what it knew it was made to do, and creating something for the world to enjoy, even if it itself was not free to move and experience as the people were. It was happy, more than happy, nonetheless. But then, one day, the piano tuner came, as he always did twice a year. But, this time, he pulled one string just a little too tight. And the next time the pianist sat down to stroke the keys on the back of the piano, The one string pulled on all the rest of the cords and strings, all intertwined, and they frayed, just a little bit, at the ends. And the magic carpet stayed firmly planted on the ground. As the weeks and months wore on, and the pianist sat down to play, the strings would fray more and more, closer and closer to the middle, and farther away from the ends. Just beneath that shining black lake, the mass of cords and strings was breaking. And now when the pianist’s slender fingers would stroke the keys on the back of the piano, it would scream in agony. But to the rest of the world, it sounded just like music.

Submitted on 2005-08-11 17:47:03     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  This is a very good idea for a write, but I was hoping for something more fully realized like 'Selki' and 'Concerning Magic.' Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed this piece thoroughly (again you are clever, creative, and beautifully descriptive), but I think you could expand this and make it more effective. Maybe take out some of the "and then one day" or the "but then" "and then" too many thens... if that makes sense. Perhaps find a new way to show the progression of time. It's a good write for sure, but I think it could use a little development.
good thinking, though. very good thinking.
| Posted on 2006-06-30 00:00:00 | by parabola | [ Reply to This ]
  I like the mood of the piece, and, barring the technicalities, I like the description. It seems like you were trying to get at the fact that people hide what hurts them and show the world a happy face. With that in mind, I think it might have made more sense if you said how the piano wanted to still make the music even though it was hurting because it didn't want to make the people hurt, too.
As for the technicalities. . . Strings aren't intertwined, they are very straight and ordered and not really attached to each other. So, if someone who had either seen inside a piano or knew how one worked were to read this that would ruin quite a bit of the beauty of the story. Actually, it did for me.
The ending is beautiful. I think it's because everyone hides the bad stuff and shows a happy face, so everyone can connect.
| Posted on 2005-08-19 00:00:00 | by HaldirLives | [ Reply to This ]
  It is a very well written piece. The flow is good, but more than that the underlying spirit - I see in it the ephemereal synonimity between life and music. How we continue to mistake an agonized existence for life.
| Posted on 2005-08-20 00:00:00 | by Eowyn_m | [ Reply to This ]
  I wasn't going to read this at first, but I'm glad I did. This is amazing. It shows such passion. Passion about a piano and the music it makes. I like the ending, its sad, yet...classy. A good way to end this. Great, great job on this.
| Posted on 2005-08-11 00:00:00 | by Dark Romantic | [ Reply to This ]
  I absolutely loved this piece. I am a pianist and never really thought about giving life to a piano before. I always just sort of used it as a chef uses a knife or a painter a brush. This was just a beautiful read for me. All the time while reading it I could hear music and really envision everything you wrote. Just lovely. I especially liked the ending-bittersweet-I suppose. I never would have thought that by this you meant yourself though except now that you wrote that in your comments. Sometimes we write our own talesof tourment in such forms to hide the true feelings or meanings from even ourselves. Hmmm...
| Posted on 2005-08-11 00:00:00 | by dawnschild | [ Reply to This ]
  The way you describe things, it almost feels too real. I like that you were able to bring out things that most wouldn't notice. Yes, it may not be about you, but I trust that there are some who do feel similar as this piano of yours.
| Posted on 2005-08-12 00:00:00 | by whchong | [ Reply to This ]

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