The Maid’s Daughter Asked To Play One Song, Then Silenced The Whole Penthouse

bench was too high.

Her feet barely reached the pedals.

Her hands hovered above the keys.

They were small hands.

Hands with a faint pencil smudge on one finger.

Hands that had washed dinner plates and folded towels and helped carry grocery bags up three flights of stairs.

Hands that had played the old upright at home until the downstairs neighbor knocked continue reading …