Finding C again

Because you have to start somewhere

Clarissa showed him middle C. ‘There.’

She pushed his finger onto it.

A familiar note. ‘Now you try.’

Her thoughts returned to a wonderful

night when he’d played her Debussy.

2 thoughts on “Finding C again

  1. You might be, Maryanne, but I wasn’t. Just keys on the keyboard for me (and the protagonist’s initial – the only intentional possible alternative). Oh no. Now you’ve go me worrying about Debussy, but no entendres entended there either I’m afraid. For me this was just a story of recovery from some unspecified acquired brain injury, taken from a lover’s perspective – but that now seems like a rather mundane reading, so go with smut if you prefer!

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