The Piano

Was reminded of something I wrote a few years ago at a wedding today, where there was a pianist playing the grand piano...



The Fan

Looking at my fan spinning in a blur I realised that I am going through life like one.

Looking beyond the piece of machinery that attempts to cool me down with debatable results is a view through my window from the tenth story. A view of the concrete jungle that defines Singapore.

What caught my eye though, is a figure of the human female along the street. The morning sun rendered a translucent image of her figure through her skirt that fluttered in the cool morning breeze. Ah, she's home. My love, my life, that's her.

Nevermind that she had just alighted from a Beemer that belongs to her boyfriend. Nevermind that just moments before I spotted her, they were in the car planning the next rendezvous. At least she has come home to me, albeit with only her body; her heart belongs elsewhere.

She avoided my eyes as she walked past me at the front door. Just as well, my tears were impossible to hide. "Good morning", she managed, as she proceeded to the bedroom to prepare to lie on the bed I had just made. Maybe she'd like some hot chocolate, I wonder silently.

I put on my shoes, took a deep breath, and went to work.

The train is a little crowded tonight, I thought to myself on the way home. No, it's not the train. It's my thoughts. It's so crowded that it's blurred. I immediately remembered my fan. Well at least there's one thing it's good for.

I opened the front door while undoing my tie. She bought this tie for me. It's my favourite tie. Why is it my favourite tie? Because she bought it for me. Ah. The door is open. Might as well go in. Maybe I'll start counting the tiles on the floor instead of introspecting.

I have always loved listening to the piano. She has always loved playing it. For me. After counting the third tile I realised the living room was filled with her piano playing. With each melodious note my heart quivered with anticipation. Was it my imagination again?

The baby grand hadn't been touched for what seemed like years. Actually it was only yesterday. What a long day I've had.

Indeed, she was playing with all the grace and charm that would put angels to shame. She glanced over her shoulder as I laid my briefcase on the floor below our wedding photo. I refused to look at the photo just like I would refuse a blunt, serrated knife stabbing my heart.

I took my place next to her on the piano chair. She was wearing an old, tattered oversized t-shirt of mine, and nothing else. The stretched collar managed to fall off her left shoulder and revealed her collarbone sensuously. Her hair was in a beautifully messy tied back sort of way. A thick strand of hair had come loose and covered her face in a way that accentuated her flawless facial features.

Tentatively, I tucked that strand of hair behind her ear, and she turned instinctively. I backed off, but she smiled. Her eyes met mine for the first time that week, and like a single sunflower in an open grass field I saw in them her heart. It was here. That couldn't be, it wasn't there that morning.

Her heart spoke to me through her eyes. No words, just the sweet melodies from the baby grand through her delicate fingers. It was then I realised: she still loves me.

That night I turned and faced my fan again. At least it knows the purpose for its existence...

*~~~*

Somehow reading back, i feel it's not well written. and if anyone's wondering, it's fictitious. i was never married.