In which I romance a piano

There are pianos in my life and everything is beautiful.

I finally got up the courage to try the mahogany Baby Grand in the Health Center lobby. It had a warm, familiar sound, the way mahogany should--not polished and glitzy like those gleaming black Yamahas. I played into the quiet sunshine and life continued as usual, as if I were in my own living room, as if wanderers sat down to pick out Schubert and Debussy all the time.

When I let go of the pedal and released the last chord back into the warm wood of the piano, the quiet reabsorbed me, a little more alive.