Gemotions

The old piano in the corner of the room was covered in a dust sheet. Thomas remembered his father's list, found amongst his father's music. “Compose a symphony.” “Play at Carnegie Hall.” It felt like a lifetime ago that his father had sat at that piano, lost in music.

He stood by the piano, the list in his trembling hand. He'd avoided this room since the funeral, the atmosphere too heavy with memories. He lifted the sheet, the keys gleaming in the dim light.

He sat down, his fingers hovering over the ivory keys. A tremor ran through him. A single, hesitant note echoed through the silent house.