Back – by popular demand!
Sorry for the lack of recent updates. I won't bore you with the details.
Schroeder took a long, deep breath. Tonight was the night.
He had practiced, nonstop, for the next three days. He had somehow persuaded his parents to serve him at the piano, and only ate what was easily accessible while his fingers flew across the keys; and only drank what could be slurped through a straw. He slept at the piano, and during the night played his Beethoven record nonstop so that the music could be memorized while he slept. He had to keep practicing, he just had to. But there was one problem he had overlooked.
Here and now, ten minutes before his performance, he realized for the first time how hungry and tired he was.
Fiona, who somehow always managed to get the job of introducing the talent when it came to this kind of thing, stepped out on stage and began reading from her index cards.
"Next tonight, we have Schroeder who will perform a piano piece for us – Bee-thoh-ven's –"
"It's Bay-tove-in!" Schroeder whispered through the curtain.
"I'm sorry – Bay-tove-in's First."
"None of this toy piano nonsense, I hope," the teacher remarked as Schroeder stepped onstage and Fiona walked off.
Schroeder walked across the stage and took a seat at the piano. He looked out at the large audience, and then back at the large keyboard. And, for the first time in his life, Schroeder felt nervous. That, combined with the hunger and tiredness, made him feel nauseous.
Beethoven had it much worse, Schroeder reminded himself.
And so, he began to play. His fingers flew across the keyboard. No one had the time to wonder how the pages were being turned – he played so well, nobody noticed.
His finish was greeted with a rousing round of applause. Everyone had loved it.
And then, Schroeder passed out.
That's the end. You can all go home now.
