By Charles Gray
With my stomach in knots, I perform Beethoven. My sweaty fingers keep sliding off keys, messing up chords. Plan B—distract the audience by mimicking Beethoven—I press my lips tighter, hit keys harder, bob my head faster, end with crescendo and messed hair.
Auditorium is silent.
I think about those lessons my parents invested in me, wasted.
A single clap echoes, then two claps.
In the front row, my parents are the only ones standing. And the way they’re extending their arms and clapping so hard, I guess they didn’t notice my mistakes.
Applause builds.
Raising my arms, I bow.
i like that it works on two levels, at least for me. he could be a man who has failed a performance or a child who is imagining the concert he gives as a pianist. open ended and left a lot to the reader’s imagination – still wanting more. bravo!
Cute little story…showing how much parents love you… no matter what… and it just takes a small ripple to encourage others… well done…
I loved the Beethoven reference! Nice job!