Empty your hard drive.

8 Aug

What was it…no, that wasn’t it. Damn. That Chopin piece she learned by heart when she was seven? It must be the wine. Shit.

“Just relax and it will come. It’s called muscle memory”. He sat down beside her, pushing her along.

“You expect me to remember what I did fifty years ago when I don’t even know where I parked my car?”

“Go on. Hum the tune and let your hands follow.” Then all at once she was playing, and she closed her eyes but didn’t stop.

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