music

She was tired. But he wanted to play her a tune on the upright piano all the same. He’d hummed it all the way home. It tinkled inside his head. She was tired of it. She wanted silence. But she was too fond of him to tell him. So she sat with him and listened. His hands swept over the keys in swift little strokes. It sounded better on the piano. He played for a few minutes. Then he stopped and let his hands rest on the keyboard. She moved closer to him. He looked at her.

“Well?”

“You know I don’t like any of that fast stuff”

“That wasn’t fast. That’s exactly how it’s meant to be.”

“I don’t like how it’s meant to be, then.”

“You’ve never liked my playing.”

“Oh, you know that’s not true now Ghaib.”

“You never did!”

“I didn’t say it was bad just then. Said I didn’t like it. Other people might, you know”

“But it’s for you, it came to me while I was walking with you. All right. Look. I’ll play it slow. OK? Slow. Just for you”


He played it again, slowly. She listened. It’s not unpleasant, she thought.

“It’s good. I like it much better now.”

She got up and walked towards the sofa. She sat facing the window. She saw the hills in the distance. They swam yellow and green in the heat. She reclined, facing away from him. He continued to play. The melody is infectious, she thought. She began to hum it softly.

It was dark when she woke. She got up and switched on the light. It swung gently from the ceiling, making the shadows sway back and forth. She stood looking at them until they stopped. She turned her face to the piano. The seat was empty. She went and opened the keyboard cover. There were no keys underneath. She shrugged and started humming.

There was a tap on the window. She looked and saw him. He grinned at her with a mouthful of ivories. Behind him stood a grave man holding a clipboard. More sheet music, she thought.