The old grand piano was failing to produce any harmonious melody. Schroeder was silently raging trying each notes combination, tuning the old instrument to every pitch possible. He tried tunes from Brahms, Mozart, Debussy and of course Beethoven, yet there was not a theme he played which sounded pleasant enough to his ears.

He stopped playing, his hands nervously shaking out of anger.

How could he fail to play even the simplest melody? he despaired, the massive bust of Beethoven on the top of his piano seemingly frowning at him.

Schroeder knew that Sunday was neither a good day to play nor a good day at all.

Lucy was at home talking on the phone to god knows how, cackling and chuckling so loudly that even the sealed door of Schroeder's piano room could not cover her noise meanwhile his son Timmy was running around the house out of sheer boredom, marking each and every step he made; as if he wanted to remind his father of his presence.

All in one, Schroeder could not concentrate in this tiresome environment.

His fingers ran aimlessly across the blacks and whites, he did not even try to play or compose anymore, he just stared lovingly at his piano while slowly caressing the notes.

His eyes were wandering on the washed out posters pinned on the wall of the room.

An assortment of old adverts for his concerts. As he kept watching, Schroeder could not help but reflect on how the standing of his venues seemed to decrease over time.

In the last five years Schroeder was only able to produce himself in cafés a far cry from the crowded operas in which he played as a teen. He still fondly remembered the prestige and delightful acoustic of those gilded concert halls.

"Being a child prodigy is one thing remaining one is a lot more arduous" Schroeder thought to himself while glaring at a old black and white photo showing his 8 year old self smiling in front of his beloved miniature piano.

"It is a quite odd feeling to realize that one's glory days are behind him even more so when this golden age happened during one's childhood" Schroeder bitterly rehashed before noticing the bubbly little girl next to his boyhood self on the picture.

Lucy, of course even on a blurry photograph she needed to be there, smirking next to him with her self-satisfied look.

After all, Schroeder could not remind a single day where the two of them had ever been apart.

Schroeder did not love Lucy; or rather he did not manage to love her despite his best efforts.

In his mind she remained and will always remain the obnoxious and irritant girl who sat on the top of his piano Still he could not conceive his life without her at his side.

She was more than a wife for him, she was a necessity. To be deprived of her would be as if he was dispossessed of his piano, while music was necessary in his life Lucy was unavoidable.

In addition she was the one who put food on the table.

As a surprisingly popular psychologist she earned far more than Schroeder's meager tips. Schroeder never understood how someone in his right mind could deem her as a suitable therapist.

He guessed that delivering self-evident truths on a fiery tone might be quite popular with impressionable clients. As he was starting to get lost in his thoughts, Schroeder heard some shy knocks on the door of the piano room. His 10 year old son Timmy hesitantly entered the room.

"Hey dad, I was playing upstairs and I wondered if you could..."

"Come play with you. I am afraid that it won't be possible. I have a lot of work to do Timmy. Maybe later in the day." Schroeder bluntly replied to his only son.

"Alright dad. I guess I will have to ask mom once she is done on the phone." Timmy said with a slight hint of regret only covered by the resigned tone of his voice.

As Timmy left the piano room knowing full well that trying to change his father's mind was a near-impossible task, Schroeder started to perceive a faint feeling of remorse. Maybe his ever distant attitude towards his son might cause him to grow apart from him? Maybe he was failing Timmy as a father? But those worries quickly disappeared from his mind as he focused back on his piano.

After all wasn't it his right to be left alone on Sunday afternoon, besides Lucy will undoubtedly go play with Tom. She had always been better with this kind of things.

Schroeder just started to play again when a second series of knocks on the door, louder this time, interrupted him.

Schroeder could recognize this adamant way of knocking at the door between thousands of others. "Yes Lucy what is it?" he indifferently asked trying his best to make her realize how much she was disturbing him.

Lucy entered the room looking both delighted and irritated. "I have been on the phone with Sally for the last two hours. You will never guess what she just told me!" she announced trying her best to mimic a cheerful voice

"Oh what can it be? Ah too bad, I can't figure it out, I guess you will have to tell me." Schroeder replied not even trying to look intrigued.

"Charles and Marcie are an item and they might even get engaged! Ain't that a shock! You imagine good old Charlie finally sorting his mess out." Lucy answered, remaining impervious to her husband's lack of interest.

"Oh it is unexpected to say the least.." Schroeder sighed, superbly unaffected by the announcement.

"One of your best friends is maybe going to elope and this is the only thing you have to say! Could you at least try to show a darn feeling for a change?" Lucy erupted

"Well sorry, I have other things on my mind, you see I don't jump out of my skin for anything."

"Anything! Tell me I am dreaming, we are talking about Charlie. Besides what do you have of so urgent on your mind? Might I remind you that you are the one who stays in this room all day long playing your silly melodies while I go to work? If I was you I would better keep my mouth shut! I am so tired of having to deal with two kids at home."

Lucy gave a faint kick in Schroeder's piano, making the Beethoven bust slightly tremble and then she busted out of the room.

Schroeder was in shock while he was used to the temper tantrums of his wife, this one was different, deep down he knew that Lucy had a point and that this situation could not last forever.

He knew that he should start getting a grip on his life again and stop feeling so apathetic.

But where could he even start: his piano career was hitting rock bottom and he had no other qualifications. In addition he had not seen his friends for months and even years for quite a few of them and he knew that mending his interpersonal relationships would be a daunting task.

Schroeder sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "He still had plenty of time to work on that" he said to himself while his fingers restarted to wander on his piano, eager to play and make his mind forget this regrettable discussion.