Hoho, like whatever.
Pls Take Note: I'm not in Choir or Band and I apologise if there are any errors regarding music.
Pls Take Note: I'm not super uber good in English either.
Ohmyhohohoho.
==============
She was drawn to the melodious sound coming from her neighbour’s house. It was unlike anything she had heard before – slow, yet soft, soothing yet powerful. It spoke no words but painted a thousand pictures. She felt as though the music surrounded her, blocking out the loud rock music blasting from some inconsiderate teenager’s radio.
It was enchanting, it was captivating – a masterpiece. A lively yet sorrowful piece of classical music, it stirred up mixed emotions in her. She could not resist getting closer.
Her neighbours were away for two weeks, till the following Sunday. She tried her luck at the door and to her surprise it was not locked. Poor Aunt Lilac must have forgotten to turn the keyhole three times instead of twice again.
Her steps coordinated with the beats of the music, she walked towards its source. She imagined herself as graceful ice-skater, twirling and spinning perfectly to the beats – fast, slow, then fast again. When the highest note on an octave was hit, she spun gracefully in the air before gliding back on the ground.
She found the object that had grabbed her attention – a musical box. Brushing away the dust on its lid, she found the words “Viva La Amistad” carved on it. She remember seeing her neighbour’s overjoyed face upon receiving the box as a birthday present, yet now it was thrown into a large box at a dark and damp corner of the living room, lost and forgotten.
The musical box was playing its swan song, hoping that someone would hear it, just one someone, and remember having heard it. The last note was played and the lid closed by itself, contented.
She made attempts to start the music again but did not succeed. Reluctantly, she left the house and stepped back into reality, a bustling world full of different sorts of noise, all incomparable to what she had just heard.
Weeks later, her neighbours returned. Looking out of the window, she saw the garbage collectors collect the box of forgotten memories from the doorstep and pile it onto a truck. Tears fell from her eyes as she caught the last glimpse of the musical box before the truck turned round the corner.
Pls Take Note: I'm not super uber good in English either.
Ohmyhohohoho.
==============
She was drawn to the melodious sound coming from her neighbour’s house. It was unlike anything she had heard before – slow, yet soft, soothing yet powerful. It spoke no words but painted a thousand pictures. She felt as though the music surrounded her, blocking out the loud rock music blasting from some inconsiderate teenager’s radio.
It was enchanting, it was captivating – a masterpiece. A lively yet sorrowful piece of classical music, it stirred up mixed emotions in her. She could not resist getting closer.
Her neighbours were away for two weeks, till the following Sunday. She tried her luck at the door and to her surprise it was not locked. Poor Aunt Lilac must have forgotten to turn the keyhole three times instead of twice again.
Her steps coordinated with the beats of the music, she walked towards its source. She imagined herself as graceful ice-skater, twirling and spinning perfectly to the beats – fast, slow, then fast again. When the highest note on an octave was hit, she spun gracefully in the air before gliding back on the ground.
She found the object that had grabbed her attention – a musical box. Brushing away the dust on its lid, she found the words “Viva La Amistad” carved on it. She remember seeing her neighbour’s overjoyed face upon receiving the box as a birthday present, yet now it was thrown into a large box at a dark and damp corner of the living room, lost and forgotten.
The musical box was playing its swan song, hoping that someone would hear it, just one someone, and remember having heard it. The last note was played and the lid closed by itself, contented.
She made attempts to start the music again but did not succeed. Reluctantly, she left the house and stepped back into reality, a bustling world full of different sorts of noise, all incomparable to what she had just heard.
Weeks later, her neighbours returned. Looking out of the window, she saw the garbage collectors collect the box of forgotten memories from the doorstep and pile it onto a truck. Tears fell from her eyes as she caught the last glimpse of the musical box before the truck turned round the corner.
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