By D. X. Lewis
…for the 94th concert, a string snapped inside him. He would never do this again. This would be the last time he dressed like a penguin; the last time she’d post vaunting videos on social media. He was sick of scales and arpeggios, sick of memorising millions of notes, sick of being hailed and feted worldwide. He was piano-ed out. Mothered out. Powdered, polished, pampered out.
So after his last ‘Moonlight Sonata,’ last Chopin nocturne, last virtuoso rendition of Rachmaninoff’s third piano concerto, Edward glared at her gloating face, bowed to his last standing ovation, and threw himself into the pit.
Good one!
Word choice is incredible!
How sad. There are other ways out of situations but the frantic desperation clearly shines through in the excellent use of language and repetitive musical references. Well done.
Love this. Can just picture his mother’s face. Well told.
Superb piece, punchy & sharp. That “piano-ed out” is wonderful.