The Duet

By: Isabel Faulkner

The Duet

By: Isabel Faulkner

Fingers danced over the keys. Laughter filled the air. Bodies pressed against each as they shared the tiny duet bench. This was how it had always been, him and her together. But now only one of them sat in front of the old piano. She would never play it again. Sobs shook her body. How could a night that had begun with joy end in such sorrow?

When the last note of the last song had died, he reached to close the key lid. This was the final task he would ever begin. His cries for help struck her heart more than any music the piano could ever create. As she tried to pull him free of the piano’s cruel jaws, his warm blood and her hot tears fell together onto her white socks. Once she hauled his body back onto the bench, they both struggled for breath.

Blood from his crushed neck was spattered on the black and white keys as if it was an altar of ancient days. This was his final resting place: slumped over the antique instrument he found more valuable than her. Together she and the piano had killed him.

What a way to die.