the pianist

[fallenlives.livejournal.com]

A curtain flapped, and out peeked an anxious girl. He caught only a glimpse of the numbers of bodies awaiting. These poor, naive fools being left to eventual destruction without even knowing when or how it would hit them. A phone rang, the ring tone a classic bleeping which he ignored. The man on stage setting up the formalities before waving him on. Daphne turned toward him, her pasty face set in worry. He strolled by, and avoided her gaze - clearly wanting to make a point. Whatever. Then he sat down on a familiar, old bench. His fingers settling on the white keys - they felt cool to his arthritis burdened hands. Somehow an old fire lit beneath him, and he was playing. People gaped at the little, hunched man. The sound bounded off the walls, under the crevasses of the doors, and into the hallow halls. People leaning out of their seats and crying babies left in an awestruck silence. And then he was finished. Daphne ran across the stage to help him up, but he shrugged her off. Dipping his head he retreated off the stage, followed by Daphne who gripped his elbow despite his attempts to shake her off. And then the room was filled with thundering claps. People rose to their feet, and some patted their eyes consistently. He watched, gazing from the stage side. This last performance so different from his first, playing in his grandmother's parlor. He strode back out on the stage to bow his head one last time, a faint smiling playing on his face. He didn't care if time stopped right there.

enjoy (:
feedback is appreciated.

Comments

[zombiedisco101.livejournal.com]

nice scene

[fallenlives.livejournal.com]

thanks :)

[starlight83.livejournal.com]

Shouldn't it be The Pianist? I don't think pianoist is a word.

[fallenlives.livejournal.com]

oops. It should (:
thanks for catching that.