The 88 keys

Music.

It's like a soothing unseen thing that calms and passes through the soul.

Not only the soul, but also the heart.

A passage way, as you can call it, that defines how you are feeling. Making emotions swirl through your heart and thoughts pop up in your mind. Thoughts that you don't think about, that are usually found at the back of your mind. Emotions as well, that swell from the bottom of your heart that make their way to the top.

I was playing my piano today. My fingers brushed across the black and white keys of the lovely instrument. I pressed on the keys, making music. Not memorized music, oh no, music that came from the heart. That's the best kind of music. Sometimes it's the worst.

There are 88 keys on a piano. 88 beautiful keys, each one is different. Different kinds of keys, names, tone, pitch, etc. There are two colours on a piano. Black and white.

52 are coloured white, the naturals. 36 are black, the accidentals or sharps or flats.

The word accidentals made me think of a situation that I came across, well, "accidentally."

Who can really stop what goes on naturally in the world? It's ironic isn't it? How I use the word accident associated with the word, natural.

You're probably wondering where I am going with this? Don't worry I'll get there.

Playing the piano keys, made me think of a specific song. A song that spoke to the heart of my dear friend. A song tells a story you know. Her story is quite interesting. I asked her permission and she has allowed me to share it with you readers out there.

It is funny, but I have met her by accident. She was riding her bicycle in the park, and I was sitting on a brown bench just admiring the view of nature that God has created for our enjoyment. How odd that she was wearing a long light coloured dress while riding a bicycle!

Her dress had got caught on one of the gears, which had partly torn her dress and not only that, but as well as caused quite a malfunction on her bicycle!

Long story short, she was unable to move on and ended up on that brown bench, sitting beside me.

We had a very good chat and she started telling me her story. Opened up to me she did. What else is better than sharing a good story with a stranger that you just met?

Here is is readers, the story of Annmarie.

She had met a boy when she was young. Younger than she is now. It is quite a story actually. It wasn't one of those boy meets girl stories that they automatically fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, no.

They hated each other. Well I wouldn't say hate. More like despised, or deeply disliked. Hate is a strong word isn't it?

But when they first met, Annmarie was practicing for her ballet performance in a studio. The boy had walked inside and watched. It was normal for people to come inside the studio and watch the practices.

But while Annmarie was dancing, the best that she possibly could, the boy made a snicker. He was laughing! Actually laughing.

Usually, she wouldn't get distracted by audiences bickering to themselves, but this boy was jeering with laughter! This caused Annmarie to stop.

She approached him and asked coolly, "Do you have a problem with something?"

He replied with tears forming in his eyes, "Your dancing.." He said still chuckling.

"And what about my dancing?" she replied.

"It looks so rehearsed and well... silly!" He immediately broke into laughter once again.

He was the only one in the studio at that time, other than Annmarie.

Her eyebrows flew up, making a surprised look. "My dancing is supposed to be rehearsed. I practiced for over 48 hours this week, trying to perfect the art and gracefulness of ballet. And no, it is not silly. I don't expect a mere mind like yourself to understand. Hmph!"

And at that she began to dance again, leaving the boy smiling at her, but silently laughing still.

At the end of the day, he approached her again and tapped her on the shoulder while she was walking down the sidewalk on her way home.

She turned around and saw the boy smile at her.

"Yes, what do you want?" she said casually, then started walking forward again down that gray sidewalk.

"I'm sorry but your dancing is dreadful! You look like a complete stick!" He laughed again, insulting her freely.

She ignored him and kept on walking like he didn't bother her at all.

He followed alongside her and spoke again, "My name is--"

She puts her hand infront of his mouth, stopping him from speaking,

"First you jeer laughter in my studio while I practice for my big performance on July 11th, openly criticize me when it was not asked, then you insult me freely and follow me home. Now you are trying to introduce yourself? Silly boy. What are you playing at?" Her hands on her hips she taps her foot, "I'm waiting."

"Oh you want me to apologize?"

"Hmm?"

"Alright I apologize."

"That's better."

"But I don't think I need to," he smiles.

"And why not?" Annmarie frowns.

"Because I don't need to! I was just merely giving my opinion! It is a free country isn't it!" he raised his arms up high.

"What?! Insulting me, being rude, you really think that's allowed? You think that's merely giving your opinon?" she raises her voice.

"Yes, I think it is allowed, no one's stopping me. Plus, I was being considerate. Thought you could use some criticism. You need all the help you can get, dancing like that."

"Well, never in all my life I have met a boy like you!"

That was their first encounter and conversation.

Annmarie was of course furious, and well, the boy, he still had his pride and head held high as if he was the right one.

They argued like that for weeks. For some reason, the boy kept on coming back to watch Annmarie. Some days he would yell out a comment or a rude remark. But other days he would just stay silent, or quiet. Or not even come at all. Good Riddance! thought Annmarie.

post to be continued...