A long, long time ago, the barest snippet of a scene from an unwritten story awoke inside my head. It was soon after I bought an old piano accordion at an auction, and in my mind's eye, I saw a red-haired girl, about ten or eleven years old, who stood in front of two women--elves, I thought. She was wearing a piano accordion and her fingers were on the keys. (By wearing, I mean utilizing the straps.)
As the girl stood there, one of the elves said to the other, "She fancies herself a musician."
See, no one plays the accordion much anymore. And they wouldn't allow her to enter their school with such a forgotten instrument. Only--they didn't quite know that the girl's accordion wasn't just an accordion.
Originally, someone had written in permanent marker, the word "DRAT" across the front of the instrument.
The story never got any farther than the above scene, until now.
Here's the beginning. (And a bonus song, but not on the accordion. Although I guess I could play it, hmm?)
As the girl stood there, one of the elves said to the other, "She fancies herself a musician."
See, no one plays the accordion much anymore. And they wouldn't allow her to enter their school with such a forgotten instrument. Only--they didn't quite know that the girl's accordion wasn't just an accordion.
Originally, someone had written in permanent marker, the word "DRAT" across the front of the instrument.
The story never got any farther than the above scene, until now.
Here's the beginning. (And a bonus song, but not on the accordion. Although I guess I could play it, hmm?)
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