In Class 6 we have been writing flashbacks based on a video we watched as a class called ‘The Piano’. At first we created a word bank to help us use more ambitious vocabulary. After that we wrote out our first draft to describe how he played the piano. We focused on using present tense to do this and discussed using the correct verb forms and suffixes to support our tense work.
We then edited and improved our writing by using parenthesis to extend our sentences. We concluded by typing up our work.
Read on to find our fantastic flashbacks.
The old mans aged fingers start to gracefully tickle the ivory keys and the room suddenly fills with a sorrowful tune. Overflowing with emotion, he becomes captivated by his playing. He solemnly looks up at the desolate room and shabby carpet and breathes in the stale air. He is solitary.
He continues his reflective melody. Suddenly, the strong fragrance of his beloved wives rose petal perfume fills the air. Turning around, he can see the ghostly figure of his wife…
She takes his hands in hers and gently kisses his delicate cheek, just as she had always done and then… she is gone.
A single tear escapes his eye as he thinks back to his days in the war. He had mourned dreadfully since the day that it had happened- it was a frightful day. He had sent his best friend to attack, and it had backfired. He needn’t have done that for they were behind the safety of the battered brick wall. Guilt overwhelms him. The melody slows down slightly as the memory replays in his mind like a broken record.
However the moments of sadness are soon replaced by a happy memory as he thinks back to the time when he received his first toy. A wooden hobby horse. He had run around the house with it-much to his mother’s annoyance- just as his Grandson is doing now. He chuckles to himself. The young boy sits beside his Grandfather as they play the final not together… and smile.
Deserted, the elderly man plays the melancholy tune as emotion flows into the music. His frail, porcelain hands stroke the smooth ivory keys as the memories start coming to the dull unfurnished room. As he sways from side to side on the painted stool; tears welling up in his blank pale eyes. Captivated by emotion, the frail man swiftly moves across the ivory keys fixed into the mahogany piano. His eyes staring into the piano explaining his life story and loses in the sorrowful music. Broken hearted, he plays the despondent as the memories danced on the polished floor.
Just as she always had, she took over with her left hand as her aroma drifted to his nose. She carefully played the melody letting her fingers stroke the smooth ivory keys. The deceased wife let her cold, bony fingers. Her pink lips lightly kissed the widower on the porcelain cheek. Suddenly he was alone again…
The horrible, yet truthful, thought came back. The battered brick wall reappeared and he ran to safety where his comrade awaited. They nodded to each other and the man swiftly stepped out and fell onto the floor. He carried him until his last breathe came and the comrade was sterile. All he could think of was not being able to save his friend. His head was chanting ‘guilt’ for what he had done…
His father slowly approached him with a box wrapped with smooth blue paper and rough red ribbon. He opened the well wrapped present leisurely and saw an oak wood hobby horse surrounded by thin, crumpled tissue paper to protect the not so fragile object. Immediately, he rode on the toy horse up to the piano. Unexpectedly the widower’s grandson came up to the piano and played the final notes with the frail, porcelain widower.
Piano
As he is playing the piano enthusiastically in the badly lit room, the prosperity of his brilliant wife’s spirit is filling him with happiness and consuming all him darkness. He hears the sound of her favourite key playing. As the feel of her soft puckered lips is touching his face, he closes his big bulging eyes and a vibrant big smile sweeps across his old yet smooth facial skin. He took a slight look over in her direction… She left him…
As he runs at full tilt across no man’s land over to the battered stone wall, he leans against it gasping for breath and protection as unmaintained gases enters his lungs. He looks up to see how his beloved comrade is doing which had actually been taken as a signal, he had done this before. As his comrade runs into the death defying line of fire before he could clutch his revolver, he is shot down. Dead…
As the young, inquisitive boy walks over to the long and thin present, he grows a smile as big as a train carriage. When the boy opens the box, he is astonished by what he sees. For his eight birthday, he gets a hobby horse. He rides around the room whizzing.
He is join by his grandson as they play the last note in unison. Then look at each other with happiness consuming them.
As the old man touches the ivory keys with his big bony fingers, his memories immediately dance across the oak floor. Sad emotions are moving across his mind. As he was playing the piano continuously thinking about his wife as he had a broken heart. He is playing the piano with sadness thinking of what happen to his wife. Swiftly his hands are moving across the ivory keys.
In the blink of an eye, he’s thinking about his wife. His wife is playing his favourite tune. In the middle of the bleak room he plays his sad tune. Suddenly he turns and sees his wife giving him a kiss on his face.
Suddenly, he is running to the battered wall feeling worried about telling his friend to go forward. As he nods to his friend he runs and tries to shoot but he is shot… he feels guilty for what happened to his friend.
In an instant, he becomes a boy again and is being given a present and it is a horse which he can ride on. He is feeling blissful as he plays the last note with his grand dad
As he sits on the mahogany stall in the gloomy darkness, his fingers elegantly hop between each ivory key. The old man is mesmerized by his own mournful tune. Loneliness flows through his body as his gnarled fingers move across the keys. Memories start to run around the room as his eyes fill with sadness.
Suddenly, she‘s there, a ghostly figure sitting beside him. The old lady is playing a harmony (on the higher keys) accompanying him, not making one mistake. She smelt the same as she had always –a sweet lavender. She fills him with tranquillity as she gently kisses on his old porcelain cheek.
Abruptly, he is standing, in the bitter cold-in the middle of a war scene. There is mud flying everywhere and hundreds of ditches with huge, metal ticking death bringers. He is wearing a khaki uniform; he runs over to the nearest shelter, a battered brick wall. There is a man, wounded in the leg, standing with him. He gives the nod to his comrade but he is instantly shot and there is nothing he can do but watch the young man die. He had experienced this memory before and the guilt he had felt afterwards was overwhelming.
Now as if he is going through the stages of his life, he is there (as a boy) opening a wooden rectangular box. At last the ribbon is untied and there it is, the thing he had been hoping for most… a toy horse. For hours on end he is skipping jubilantly around the room-mesmerized by his new toy-searching every corner, a smile spread across his face.
Then suddenly he has turned into the granddad’s grandson. He runs energetically towards the piano where his granddad is sitting-playing the same tune he has known since the age of ten-and then together they are playing the last note. Glee fills each of their eyes as they look up into the sky.
Engulfed by the darkness, his fingers dance elegantly over the ivory keys. Notes flow into the bitter blackness; his eyes scanning his aged fingers. The constant clear sound of his fingers lightly pressing on the keys, filling the room. No emotion can be seen on his face while he sways gently. Memories spill out like light pouring into a room. Each note lingers on, leaving a mesmerising tune behind – remembering the way his wife played.
The music transported him back in time releasing his memories. Warm hands of his wife touches his as they start to play a familiar duet with the notes falling into place effortlessly. The way they played had always caused emotion to wash over his face – tears gathered in his eyes. Turning slowly she kisses him on the check. Suddenly he releases that he is still alone with just his thoughts for company.
As he runs onto the battle field, the clouds are tearing up unto a million pieces and ice cold rain is pouring down. No man’s land stood empty, unmarked and vacant. He nods his head slightly to a solder, almost simultaneously he is shot down. Tears glisten in his eyes, the moment has scarred him for life. Wind wipes his rugged checks as he looks up at the star light sky…
In an instant he is a boy again, a silky, lacy, blue box is given to him. What is in it? He asks himself every time the memory floods back. Just as he has always had, he skips around the room on his wooden horse with a smile sketched on his face. The wooden horse was carved in the most intricate. He remembers it like it was yesterday.
As he delicately touches the ivory keys with his aged fingers, his memories start to dance around him no emotions can be seen on his face as he starts to play the first note. He swiftly moves his hands across the piano. He sits in darkness not making a sound as sad memories fill his head. He starts to play in isolation as his aged fingers hovered above the ivory keys.
Sadly he fills his wife’s warm presents coming next to him. He saw her lightly put her weightless hand on his. She leans over and gives him a kiss before he knew it she vanished into fin air.
All of a sudden he run rapidly to the wall and he nod to his friend they both Neal down on the muddy floor his friend aimed the gun and suddenly there was a loud bang and his friend got shot he slowly pick up his friend and took his hand.
In an instant he became a boy again with a baby blue present. He opened the present and there was a horse on a stick he rode round and round rapidly around the piano finally he put it down and sat on a chair and they pressed the last piano note together and they both looked at each other.
He’s filled with joy to hear beautiful music that he and his wife used to play. His memories are unfolding as he remembers what happened before. As he is playing the instrument swiftly; his breath is taken away by his beautiful music. A slight tear rolls down his cheek. He gets butterflies in his tummy as he gets a feeling he’s not alone. In a flash his wife appears and he feels happy to see her by his side. He had always said he would be with her no matter what happened.
A few years ago, his friend past away in World War ll. He felt guilty that his friend died in the he didn’t survive but he did he was so ashamed of himself he had anger in his self ever since that day he never forgot about him and his lost he remembered when he was little he got a present from his gran dad he kept it for many years he gave it to his gran son just like his gran dad gave him the toy horse for a present suddenly out of nowhere his gran son came to play the piano with him then they stared at each other .
As he starts to touch the ivory keys with his bony fingers memories dance across the brown oak floor. His eyes fill with sadness as his story unfolds with every tickle of the keys. The sound of the enchanting melody, makes him feel really emotional, as a tear rolls down his cheek.
As he continues to play he gets a sense that he’s not alone, out of a flash his wife appears and continues to play with him. Then his wife leans forward and gives him a kiss on his cheek. Suddenly he realises he is alone again.
Suddenly he goes back into the war and hides behind a battered brick wall with his comrade, then as his comrade begins to shoot but then somebody else shoots him (then the man who plays the piano) tries to help him but then he looks in the sky which means his comrade is dead.
As he continues to play the piano he opens a present which he was really excited for, when he opens it, he is very cheerful because it was something that we wanted desperately. As he lifted the oak wood horse he puts his leg over it and gallops as fast as he can. And then his grandson goes onto the piano chair and the final note of the song is played with the grandson and the widower.
His eyes are filled with sadness, the old man melancholy plays his life story mixed emotions are forming tears in his eyes. Passionately he continues play, the gloomy room is bringing back melancholy memories of depression and loss that suddenly flow back to him. Mesmerized his eyes fixate on the dull brown walls and calm music transports him to other tragic events.
The horrible musty smell is slowly being overruled by a sweet smelling lavender scent, she’s back. He feels a soft warm breath on his neck; slowly he turns to face her and a warming smile meets him. For a second time he turns to glance, she kisses him but she is fading; heart-broken he continues to play.
He’s running for the cover of the wall feeling fearless in his khaki uniform. Confidently he nods at his comrade who steps forward but is thrown backwards by the force of a bullet, he is dead. The old man cries as he remembers the tragic event.
With eyes shedding tears the lonely widower continues to play and times of happiness come back to him. He’s a boy again. He’s fidgety desperate to see his present; swiftly and cautiously he opens the great gift and is shocked at the present he gets and just gaps. Proudly he runs round the dull room on the beautiful hobby horse but in his mind he’s in a forest gallantly galloping. The boy turns into his grandson who is carefully riding around on the same delicate toy and with great care lays the ancient toy on the oak ground with great care.
Determined to reassure his grieving grandfather he –with great care- climbs up onto the beautifully carved oak stool and proudly plays the last note with his grandfather. He smiles calmly into his grandfather’s sorrowful eyes reassuring him that everything is fine.
A figure sits at a piano, shadowed by the darkness of the room. He is held captive by his own emotions and stares, mesmerized by the slow movements of his own fingers. The surrounding room reflects on the man; dark and shying away from any feelings. A sadness flickers in his eyes only to be shoved away by a stern glare as he tries to push all of his painful memories further down inside him. His face returns blank. All traces of sorrow wiped away in an instant. He just sits, incarcerated in the emptiness of the room.
His fingers still keep on confidently tapping away at each of the keys. He knows he’s not alone. He doesn’t even need to glance beside him to know she is there. A ghostly hand lingers over one of the keys and he is certain he can smell the scent of his wife’s perfume clouding the air around him. A soft kiss lingers on his cheek and he is reminded of the ones his wife had given to him so many times before. The memory fades along with his smile and his gaze returns to the piano, expressionless.
He stares into the depths of the room, waiting for another memory to be uncovered… suddenly, he is back in the trenches. He is sprinting. Nearing the wall he has seen many times before. He dives and stretches his arms far out in front of him to break his fall. Even as he sits at the piano he winces at the pain that had stabbed his arm after the descent; he continues falling and tucks his legs up into his chest and rests within the safety of the brick wall. He turns his head, alarmed at the sight of a fellow soldier doing exactly the same thing. The soldier waits for his “ok” and after a silent nod, peers round the corner, brings his riffle to his shoulder and- bang!
A red rosette spurts from the young man’s chest as he falls lifeless to the floor.
A pang of guilt still strikes the old man’s heart as his fingers reach gingerly for the next key. He is responsible for the young man’s death and he can do nothing about it.
Suddenly, without warning, a new scene unfolds before him. A young boy is bending down in front of him, pouring over a large blue box. A noise- something that reminds him of hundreds of tiny cat bells – is echoing around the room.
With a grin spread wide across his face the boy gently lifts the lid of off of it. A small, handcrafted stick horse lay, perfectly centred, in the middle of the box, glass eyed with a long woollen main.
The boy scoops it up and rides it gleefully around the room, circling the piano and running laps up to the door and back.
The door opens and the man is pulled unwillingly out of the memory. He is surprised to see the same horse, saddled by a similar young boy. He smiles as the boy rides in and, with the same amount of care as the boy in the memory; lays the horse down by the piano. He hops up to join his grandfather at the instrument and presses the last note of the piece, smiling at his grandfather as he did. He was not alone
The elderly man mournfully plays the beautiful piano in the badly lit room. With every note he plays, woefulness starts to fill his eyes. He is mesmerized by the sorrowful tune the piano gives away which makes a series of sad thoughts enter his mind…
Suddenly, a ghostly figure of his wife slowly emerges next to him. Just as she had always done, she plays the second part of the song turning it into a beautiful duet. The man feels a tickling feeling (like a kiss) buzzing right on his cheek and then slowly but sadly fades away. Even though she is gone, the man still smells the sweet scent of the perfume she always wears lingering through the pitiful room.
Another depressing thought shoots through his mind and it was when he was in ww1. Bullets fly towards him as puts pressure on his bleeding arm. He runs up to a stony brick wall with moss going down it like a slithering snake. There was his comrade with a loaded shotgun he was wielding in his hand. As he tries to lad his gun, he gives his comrade a clear nod and off he goes shooting bullets at the rival German. But he was proved weak when a bullet flies quickly towards him and he gets hit and blood quickly oozes out of him. The man tries to run and save him but it was too late…. he was gone. One teardrop falls down from his eye. He has gotten his friend killed and it was his fault. He looks up in heaven and sighs. “He’s up there now” he says looking back at the piano with a mighty amount of grief.
The sad song turns into a jubilant song as he thinks of childhood (which he says is the only happy part of his life). He receives a present with a silky blue ribbon on top. He impatiently opens the present and inside was a homemade wooden horse what he wanted for ages. He gallops down the streets with his friends watching in awe. He gave his grandson and sees with the corner of his eye runs around the piano before getting up on the seat and finishing the last note together. They both look at each other and smile. His grandchildren are his soul and happiness and he loves them.
Isolated, the old man’s frail, porcelain fingers slide and dance elegantly along the cold ivory keys. Gloomy notes linger in the bitter darkness. The old man’s mind wanders, mesmerized, as he’s trapped in his own thoughts, his eyes losing focus on the keys. Shutting his eyes he contemplates events from his past life.
A familiar sweet aroma wafts into his nostrils- the scent of rose petals- it’s his wife sitting next to him, just as she always had done. Now accompanied by his past beloved, she starts to play. The calm melody starts to become more beautiful and magical than ever before. The man turns to his companion; she is now giving him a soft kiss on his gnarled cheek. She fades away, leaving the man alone once more…
In an instant, he’s sprinting through the desolate battle scene- listening to the ear shattering thuds and bangs. Crouching in his medic uniform on the bleak ground, he nods towards his comrade {who was cowering in fear} giving him a signal to fire. His fellow soldier dives valiantly out of his battered brick barricade, pointing his rifle at the enemy. Bullets come rushing like raindrops towards the awestruck troop. A single bullet pierces his chest leaving a hole as wide as a nib of a pen in his heart. In grief and horror the old man- who was a medic at the time- lifts up the dead man’s body- tears rolling down his muddy flesh. The man hates this moment {just as he always had}.
Now as a young boy he is being handed a large, blue box. What could be inside? Exhilarated, he eagerly rips off the lid. A hobby horse! He picks up his new gift and gallops around the room, which was the most gleeful thing he’d ever done.
Suddenly elderly again the man plays his soft tune, in the dimly lit room, as his grandson passes by {on the same horse he’d once ridden}. He springs up onto the stool next o his granddad and presses down the final key, his eyes staring joyfully at his granddad’s, in perfect unison
Deserted, the elderly man is swiftly moving his bony fingers on the polished keys. He plays a subtle tune as he gracefully moves his body to the melody. He looks down, doubting himself for everything that’s happened. Pushing down the pedal, a shadow fills the room with loneliness as it haunts the emotion inside him. Quickly, spreading his hands wearily across the piano, his eyes fill with sadness as the memories all start to suddenly flow back.
Unexpectedly, he breathes in the scent of his beloved wife’s daffodil perfume and feels a presence near him. He looks down onto the ivory keys and sees two porcelain hands resting there just as they had always done before. Silently, a tender brush of her lips past by his cheek. But when he looks, she’s gone…
He carries on- playing the chorus he always practiced until another flashback starts to travel quickly through the back of his mind. This time, he is sprinting with fear when a comrade of his carries a bulky gun trying to protect them both as he leans on the brick wall. A tear rolls down his cheek as the feeling in his stomach rises and his wrinkles weigh down his face. He wipes a tear away as quickly as possible and remembers the emotion that shocked him when the bullet made the sound and dug into his friends loved heart. It scars him time after time and will never make him feel good about himself ever again. It was dreadful.
Then- all of a sudden- another memory was trapped inside his head and couldn’t get out. As a little boy, he had received an old, wooden hobby horse- which lit up his face and made him grin with excitement. He used to ride it happily hardly containing his exhilaration. He always loved picturing it in his head.
Just as the old man is about to finish the song, his grandson comes racing into the doorway on his old hobby horse (which he loves very much) and sits quietly next to his grandfather who lets him play the last note. Tears fill in his eyes.
As he touches the melancholy keys, his life story began to play in his mind; the sweetness of his music touches his soul, reminding him of every memory he’s ever had with his beloved wife. Notes play on his dark oak floor creating their own reality of sadness. His wife appeared she holds his hand like they always used to do, as she disappeared in the darkness her fragrance reminded him of her sweet heart.
All of a sudden he was back ww2, unenthusiastically he ran swiftly to find his comrade they laid by the old, battered wall they agreed to shoot. It was too late his comrade laid on the floor dead guilt ran through his vain.
In an instant he was a boy he was filled with delight. He looked at the old and remembered the exhilaration he used to have. Proudly he presented his horse, to his son hoping they make new memories. Joyfully he galloped to the piano filling the dark and gloomy atmosphere with hope.
Intricately they press the last note of the piano, which was an ancient gift from his beloved wife.
As he touches the melancholy keys, his life story began to play in his mind; the sweetness of his music touches his soul, reminding him of every memory he’s ever had with his beloved wife. Notes play on his dark oak floor creating their own reality of sadness. His wife appeared she holds his hand like they always used to do, as she disappeared in the darkness her fragrance reminded him of her sweet heart.
All of a sudden he was back ww2, unenthusiastically he ran swiftly to find his comrade they laid by the old, battered wall they agreed to shoot. It was too late his comrade laid on the floor dead guilt ran through his vain.
In an instant he was a boy he was filled with delight. He looked at the old and remembered the exhilaration he used to have. Proudly he presented his horse, to his son hoping they make new memories. Joyfully he galloped to the piano filling the dark and gloomy atmosphere with hope.
Intricately they press the last note of the piano, which was an ancient gift from his beloved wife.
I really enjoyed making my flashback , because it gave me the courage to make a fantastic
flashback using punctuation and good adverbs and nice adjectives.
I am really proud of my flashback.
Over flowing with emotions, he plays romantic music. As the old, elderly man touches the thin, ivory keys with his bony fingers, streams of happiness pour out of his head. In the dark, gloomy room, the only light source is the musical notes. As his emotions fades away, the only thing keeping him going is his soulful music.
While he plays the quiet, tuneful music, suddenly he smells a familiar cent. Then out of know where, his beloved wife comes to play the piano with him like she had always done. As he carries on playing, his wife comes to and gives him a warm, smooth kiss.
Soon after, he is running towards a stone brick wall. As he is running on the muddy, wet floor and reaches down to his raged pocket and heaves out a mighty bullet. Soon after he signals to his comrade to go and attack. The moment he speaks, his friendly, innocent comrade is shoot. Checking if it was safe to run over to him, “are you okay? “As the big, masculine man ran to his comrade, a tear runs down his face; as he picks him up he glares into his eyes, he sees that he is too late to save him. As no reply came from his mouth only screams of terror came out from his mouth. ”Nnnnnnnnoooooooooo!”
As the man remembers being given a magnificent toy horse. He gallops around on his wonderful wood brown horse. As he is getting older his only hope comes over. While his grandson gallop along swiftly, he puts down the horse and climbed up to the piano. As they both play the final note a big smile comes into both of their faces.
Isolated, the elderly man plays the melancholy tune as emotion flows into his mind. Swiftly, his porcelain hands move across the burnished keys and he elegantly sways as wrinkled fingers play the mournful tune. He slowly adjusts himself on the plump quilted stool. His eyes look worn out as he gazes into the solemn unilluminated room. Memories woefully dance on the soft, mahogany wooded floor. His left foot struggles to put itself on the golden pedal. A tear carefully trickles down his thin face. He tries to take his mind off things but can’t help playing his entire life story.
As he plays the melodious tune, his wife slowly appears next to him. He can smell the aroma of her delightful fragrance like she had always done. Together, they slowly sway across the grand, black piano – just as they had always done. Comfort fills the blank room as a weightless kiss is formed on his pale face. Suddenly she is… gone! A smile is released from his face but he knows his beloved one is waiting for him.
Bombs swiftly appear everywhere as they both stagger through the grounds. They take cover behind the battered brick wall. The gun shots are deafening and they can’t run away. The man slowly gives a gentle nod to his comrade – giving a signal. Blankly, he runs onto the bleak field holding his weapon confidently. Eventually, he goes back out. One minute he is kneeling – in the blink of an eye, he is… dead.
The young boy sits on the mahogany floor, eager to find out what is in the box. The bright blue box is waiting to be open. Exuberantly, the boy tears open the box to see his very own hobby horse. A smile is emerged on his face as he gallops around. He jumps to the slow rhythm of the music that his grandfather is playing. Then he joins him on the plump quilted stool. Together they play the last note…
Deserted, the frail elderly man swiftly plays; passionate music, that fills the old musty room. His porcelain hands swiftly dance over the keyboard; emotion floods out of his watery eyes as he plays the sensitive piece. Memories spill out and waltz around the room. Mesmerized by the breath-taking music -he looks down at the ivory keys- his eyes sparkling in the dark room.
An aroma swirls around, his wife is sitting next to him, it smells of lavender, his deceased wife’s old perfume. His wife’s hand plays next to his –which is as pale as snow- as it always had done. He looks over at her, love floods out of them, she reaches over and kisses him on the cheek… she disappears.
Suddenly, he is racing across the bleak desolate landscape –his red medic badge flashing in the mist- towards a battered stone wall. He sees his comrade ahead and feels a pang of relief spreads inside him protection. He thuds against the stone wall, as he had done many times before. After cooling down, which was easy enough in the freezing cold, he looks over at his comrade and nods –giving the signal to fight. As soon as the soldier steps round the wall he is shot and falls down dead. The medic rushes over pulling the dying man behind the safety of the wall and onto his lap… he is dead. Holding the dead man in his arms, the medic looks up at the sky mournfully – guilt etched into his face.
He remembers him as a little boy – only seven years old – he wears his old fashioned, smart Sunday best as he leans over the blue cardboard box. Eagerly he rips open the box, unravelling the fine red ribbon, to reveal the oak hobby horse inside the box. Amazement swept over his face as he gallops round the mahogany piano that had been in his family since his great, great grandfather bought it, the hobby horse in-between his legs. The image changes now his grandson hops round the piano on the old hobby horse joy overwhelms the room. The widowers grandson hops onto the piano chair beside his grandfather music overwhelms the room. He moves his hand out of the way and they play the final note.
Gracefully, his body sways as his bony fingers hover over the ivory keys, life-long memories prancing around his head like a tornado. As his eyes fill with sadness, he plays the enchanted melody-memories slowly unfolding as he continues to play.
The silhouette of his wife slowly emerges next to him. As he continues to play, he turns to her –feeling he’s not alone. He smells the rich, lingering scent on her velvet clothes. They both play the melody together until… she leans over and delicately kisses him on the cheek. The old man is on the edge of shedding his tears –as he knows she would always be with him. He softly turns to look at her and remembers her words, ‘’ will always haunt you, waiting to be with you.’’ Her words repetitively spins in his head until she suddenly disappears.
As he sprints to the battered brick wall, he hopes for the enemy not to shoot him. He ducks as he signals his comrade to shoot until suddenly… his comrade fell before his eyes. He runs towards him and hold him but it’s too late,-he suffers another close comrade gone. He glances at the lifeless, bleak battlefield, thinking of the lives gone. He is full of guilt, hatred and disgust because he let another friend die.
His beloving father hands him a blue box. As he carefully lifts up the lid, he then delicately lifts the wooden horse and rides it, galloping joyfully around the piano. His grandson then hops up onto the black, velvet chair, finishing of his life story song.
Deserted the elderly man plays the melancholy tune as emotion flows into the music. Lingering notes fill the air which are dancing everywhere in the dark room .His hands swiftly plays the piano with great care. As he is spreading his hands across the keys, he is starting to get sad. As he plays emotion flows out of him. His old bony hands elegantly plays the piano. Suddenly his wife comes into the room. She starts playing the piano with him. Her lovely red rose perfume floated in the air her faded body starts to go. She gently kisses him on the cheek and disappears. Her perfume is still in the air like it always has been before and she is gone…
He runs up to a battered brick wall and crouches down behind it. He gives a nod to tell him that he is there and ready. He went out gun at the ready. He got shot down and collapses. He ran over to him and picks him up. He starts to close his eyes and his heart stops. He looks up t the sky like he had done before for is wife.
He gives his grandson a wooden toy horse he had since he was a little boy. He got on it and starts ridding it everywhere. His grandson enters the room and sits next to his grandfather and together ended the music
The lonely, musty air circles around the piano, making the old man lose focus as past events come flooding back to him. His gnarled fingers starts to dance across the white and black keys generating a thoughtful tune slightly brighten up the room. Sorrowful. Down – hearted. He is captivated by his own music while swaying through the melodic memories that surround him and now gently touches the ivory key which lets out an introspective tune.
Still playing, the widower recognizes the familiar aroma lapping the huge room- a memory returning. Another shadow appearing. Angelic light borders the dead woman, making her face brighten up again- just like it had a lifetime ago. Comfort surrounds the man and he feels the lifeless figure getting nearer. Now, her face smothering his, the woman’s lips wipe the man’s cheek. Enhanced by his wife’s love, the man doesn’t even notice his partner’s loss of presence- the memory broken.
The din of the music takes the old man into another sadness…
Running for his life across the bleak, wasted landscape for the safety of the battered brick wall, the medic signals his comrade to proceed in the killing beyond the irrelevant and random but needed wall. Falling to the floor, the fellow soldier’s flies up to the skies. Guilt overcomes the man and, looking up to the sky, he immediately returns to his lonely life, his porcelain, frail fingers shaking on the ebony keys. Such a tragic accident-yet, he felt so guilty.
The man’s mind is taken up with thinking. The violet ribbon unfolds as his face lights up with joy and happiness. Very carefully, the energetic boy picks up the hobby horse with admiration and thanks. Galloping around the piano endlessly, the old man’s mind swiftly switches to modern life. The present passed onto his beloved grandson who uses it as much as the old days when life was happy. The last note is being played and the two generations smile at each other peacefully.
Gracefully sways from side to side as he plays the first few notes. His thoughts move around the room as he elegantly moves his body. His wrinkled hands slowly the move along the ivory keys he starts to overflow with emotion. The music dances so he begins to reflect.
Then his music grants him to remember his special memory to come back as he plays and she lives on throughout the music. She disappears and the music turns harsh and crazy as his heart skips a beat. His wife is his life and he is her life he realises that as his music calms and so does he since he is one with his music.
More memories start to come as he plays and he remembers the time were he was at his true sadness and he true fear as he runs through the field dogging bullets and cannon balls. He takes cover with his only friend left with the living. The friend is brave and shoots and lands three shots but there was a cost and it was his life the ultimate sacrifice for his country and the music turns harsh and crazy as the memories fade and become a blur and a thing most left alone and left in the dark.
One after another they come filling him with Joy or Sorrow. Here he faces his happiest memory. It was Christmas and it was a time of joy were bells were ringing and people were cheering. It was his present and he opened it with persistency making sure not to break whatever is inside. He opens it and it is a toy wooden horse for him to play and for him to run around on it and get some exercise. As the memory fades he faces his grandson with his old wooden horse galloping around the piano.