Member Rara Avis
Durban, South Africa
As her fingers rippled over the ivory keys of the grand piano, her hands dainty and smooth and her long graceful fingers drawing out the joys and sorrows that Chopin painted into his music, she was swept into another world - a world of tall, melancholy trees and small chattering brooks, peaceful English meadows and wild cruel tundras, of desperate longing and of peace, of rapturous, painful happiness and a world of memories.
“Time was away and somewhere else” as she slipped through fern forests inhaling the cool, damp air and watched icy waterfalls slip over the rocks above her in a long, silver line to dive into deep, cavernous pools below.
Her first evening dress - a filmy dream of soft blue, her wedding day, and then that small bundle of joy that stayed for such a short time - all floated through her mind as the music penetrated her soul.
She loved and hated, gave and received, till her heart, filled with intermingled feelings, was bursting.
She could bear it no longer! Giving a low, almost inaudible sigh, she trailed her old, gnarled hands through the dirty water in the kitchen sink and picked up a broken cup.
(Written when I was 16)