First Love

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The corner of my memory… A brown piano settled on one side

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Everyone has memories.

Whether they be sad or happy.

His memory was the brown piano, in the corner of the room.

Neglected. Dust covering the once beautiful mahogany wood.

As for her?

Her memory was the small boy she found that day,

Crying by himself. His pale, malnourished hands resting on the old instrument.