wasted and wounded at this old piano

The piano has been silent for years.

Now I play again. I'm rusty and slow and yet my fingers still know this intricate system of keys, my brain connects chords and something in my body finds a rhythm and goes with it.

I play the wrong notes and turn the sound down on my keyboard so as not to drive the neighbours insane. But music flows from me. I let myself have fun with it, my soul grows into another dimension and my piano teacher sighs with happiness.