The Piano

She sat at the piano, her heart weighing heavy in her chest.  Its dark wood was unkempt; littered with tea stains, rubbed bare where hands had come to rest.  The ivory keys were stained and chipped, the black keys dull and begging to be brought back to life.  She could hear the piano calling out her name, louder and louder, a crescendo filling the room.  She flexed her fingers, resting them upon the keys that had once been so familiar.  Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and began to play, imagining her mother beside her once more.