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@jane-maree I love music rooms so this was fun!

I slammed my music books onto the pile stacked higher than the flickering lamp sitting on my piano. They slid off and crashed to the floor, taking a stack of loose sheet music with them. The fluttering papers stirred up the dust bunnies that insisted on gathering at the base of dad’s guitar. I kicked the nearest sheet leaving mud on the already stained dingy, green carpet. I huffed and flipped around my gaze latching on the picture of dad. The frame was faded and hung crooked. But the picture had captured him smiling. I breathed in the dusty air and tried to remember what it was like when dad had been in here last.

The fan had five blades back then and there had been no cracks in the ceiling that leaked in rainy seasons. He could always get that sticky window by the piano to open and songs with five sharps to seem like no big deal. I wanted the room to be like that again. Magical.