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Old 08-18-2012, 08:24 AM
gloryia (Offline)
I Am My Own Master
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Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Northamptonshire, England
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Default The Musician (218)


The musician came to play for us girls; excited we listened. He’d perfected a more staccato sound by plucking at his arpeggione, and we were all three delighted as he played on. He’d avowed that we would want to hear more of his talent and we looked toward our ayah who stood before the door ever watchful of us girls; she would never leave us alone with a man, not even a musician.

I, the eldest wore mother’s broach. I believe it caught the musician’s eye being a fallal, so showy it certainly couldn’t be worn unnoticed. Mama always said it would be useful if ever times proved hard – a frugal life could be avoided for the owner of such a showy jewelled broach.

I being just sixteen was not yet ready to nidulate, although with my eyes on the tall dark man seated at the piano I was surely tested. The music, soared, we three listened enraptured; snap-shots of what might be, causing my cheeks to redden at thoughts not proper, as Mama would say.

It couldn’t last, but after an hour of his playing, as he left, he took my hand into his, raised it to his lips and I ever after never forgot the musician, the beautiful arpeggione and avowed one day I would see him again.