"Len—" He could hear Ailsa's sigh as she ran after him. However, Len was quick, dodging corners and sliding across the hardwood floor. He quickly sprinted up the stairs, laughing to himself as he ran quicker with his arms out like an airplane. The seven-year-old was at his heels, barely unable to catch the boy. Until she finally grabbed him with a triumphant "Ha!" and picked him up, both out of breath but grinning from the chase. "You have way too much energy, little guy. How are you so fast for a toddler?" She asked, laughing as she placed him down. Len shrugged, before running over to the piano in their mother's room, clambering onto the bench and smoothing out the crumpled paper on the stand. "So this was what you wanted to show me?" Ailsa asked, peering over his shoulder at the notes he had scribbled onto an empty staff to make some sort of sheet music. Len nodded enthusiastically before carefully reaching out and playing a small melody, occasionally looking back at his sister to make sure she was paying attention. It was nothing much, just a simple tune, but it had a spirit the four-year-old was immensely proud of, even if it was incomplete. Ailsa nodded as he played, humming to commit the song to memory. When he was finished, Len's focused gaze shifted to curiosity as he turned to his sister, eyes wide as he silently searched for her approval. Finally, she smiled. "It's good! Really good!" At that, he grinned back, eagerly looking back at the piano as he reached for the keys again. Ailsa caught what he was trying to say and nodded, nudging him over to the side so she could sit next to him. "Let's work on this, okay? Together. And then we'll ask Mom to get you some proper lessons. We're gonna make you into a real musical genius, little man. Just you wait." --- What a waste. Len laughed to himself as he looked at the crumpled and slightly ripped paper. His first composition. He'd found it, in the old house. He'd been so happy then, so energetic. What had happened in between? He walked over to the piano, it was probably out of tune but would work well enough, and smoothed out the makeshift sheet music, studying it for a moment before he began to play. It wasn't actually horrible, he noted, adding a couple chords or extra notes. Simple, yes. Unremarkable, definitely, but the piece was solidly decent, especially for the work of a four-year-old. Then the piece finished and Len was left with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since he’d been that happy? Since he let himself be happy? As a child, he’d been so full of life, so fully of energy and joy, and now look at him. What a waste.
Writing and characters by me
