Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or it's characters.
The gentle strains of a piano could be heard through the window of the small, suburban bungalow in which Sarah Williams lived. The open window was to the side of the baby grand, and sheer curtains contrived to hid the performer's face from view. But from a particular angle, the graceful curves of Sarah's face could be seen as she concentrated on her music.
The day had been particularly trying. The morning had been spent with her cello, practicing and studying the music she hoped would help her later that day. The early afternoon had been taken up with a strenuous audition for the local orchestra. Sarah had returned home exhausted, and after a light meal and a nap, had taken to her piano to relieve her stress. The soothing rhythm of Debussy's Claire de Lune had soothed her perfectly.
The audition had gone well, she thought. There was really no way of knowing until she received word, but she was hopeful that this third audition would be the charm for her. It had been her dream to be accepted into this orchestra, and she had worked toward that goal single-mindedly for the last 5 years. When she had been given the opportunity to audition, it had seemed like that determination had finally paid off. Previous auditions had given her an idea of what to expect and how to prepare. She was certain her dream would now be granted.
Claire de Lune flowed seamlessly into Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The pulsing passion of the music pushed through her, and she felt herself relax even further. The calming power of sound never ceased to amaze her. As a child, she loved music, had been put through several years of piano lessons, but it wasn't until she was 15 that melody became passion to her. She had first touched a cello at 15, and it seemed the instrument immediately became her friend, holding it's voice only for her. In only a couple of years, she had progressed to advanced pieces, and soon after she entered college, she set her mind upon professional work. It was difficult when she had been turned down- twice- to join the orchestra, but she was not deterred. She intended to earn a place in this orchestra, and earn a place, she would.
The phone rang, jolting her out of her relaxed reverie. It was a local ensemble leader, asking if she could fill in that evening for a performance. She quickly agreed. "It will be better to keep myself busy tonight," she thought, "rather than give myself opportunity… well, I don't need to stew over this audition."
At the appropriate hour, she carried her cello into the performance venue and joined the other ensemble members. The performance, a selection of string quartets by Bach, went smoothly. As always, Sarah was engrossed with her music, and paid little attention to the audience. At the end of the performance, she took her time storing her instrument, and took a few minutes to speak with members of the audience who were anxious to discuss their happiness in the performance.
As she turned from these admirers, a shadow caught her eye. Curious, she examined more closely the doorway from which it originated, but now saw nothing there. "Funny," she thought, "I could have sworn there was someone there." Recalling the image in her head, she was certain she had seen a shape in a cloak. But it was getting late, she was particularly tired from her day, and it was no problem to convince herself that she had not seen anything at all.
The drive to her bungalow was uneventful. After stopping to pick up a late-night snack, Sarah pulled into her own driveway and wearily entered her home. Putting on water for tea, she changed out of her outfit and pulled on her fuzzy robe. As she made tea, she reviewed the events of her day, finally forcing herself to stop going over and over the audition. Resolutely, she pulled a book out of her bookcase, and settled herself, her food, and her cup of tea in the recliner. "Relax, Sarah," she thought. "I will know the outcome soon enough." Opening the book, she read until the food was gone, and her tea was cold.
The window curtains were still open, and outside, a soft breeze shook the branches of the tree that shaded the house. Nestled in a crook stood a large white owl, it's unblinking eyes fixed on the woman in the house.