{ Authors Note: all rights given to the song and it's writer I used for this story. & italics = singing }
The two elderly women lay together, hands gripping the other, desperate to hold on. The older ones head is resting against the slightly younger ones shoulder. They can't bring themselves to meet eyes just yet. It would be too much.
"Do you remember our wedding?" the older asks.
"Of course I do, what kind of a question is that?"
"I still can't believe you never told me you could play piano."
"Or sing." The younger laughs.
"Or sing," the older repeats, nodding, "I still remember it like it were yesterday..."
"I was so nervous." the younger chuckles, reminiscing. The older of the two peers up into the younger's chin and smiles.
"Will you sing it to me again?"
"I will... but only if you set the scene?" the younger smiles with her eyes closed, remembering the day so long ago. "and you'll have to forgive me... my voice isn't what it used to be."
"It may have aged, but you sure haven't, my love." The older brunette traces circles on the blonde woman's thighs.
The blonde chuckles. "Set the scene."
"Well. It's dark outside but we had always talked of it being that way. Those damn cliche string lights hang all around the courtyard."
The younger interrupts. "Oh shut up, you loved them."
"Guilty."
"Continue."
"Yes. Well according to you, it's the moment you had been waiting for ever since the day you learned to play. You sat down on the black stained bench and rested your hands familiarly on the ivory keys. Your wrists flexed naturally as if you had played the piano for years."
"Well I had."
"Yes, but I wasn't aware of that. It took me by surprise." the brunette laughed. "Anyway, your fingers rested on the proper keys - the ones you apparently practiced for years. Everyone fell quiet and you started to play the deep melody." the brunette smiles to herself as she verbally repaints the picture for them both.
The blonde begins to hum the beginning of the song. She pauses and picks up the story.
"And sitting atop the piano drapes a long black dress. White ribbon tied around the waist and an intricate network of designs around the bosom."
"It was a few designs, calm down." the older brunette scoffs.
"Far more complicated than mine. Anyway, laced into the fabric is a woman of mid thirties, sweetheart neckline of course." the blonde chuckles.
"What do you mean of course?!" The brunette lightly slaps the brunettes paper skinned arm.
"You know what I mean! You and those GLOBES of yours. You used to love to show them off. Not that you'd ever admit it." the blonde smirked to herself.
"Well they've gone to shit now."
"Shut up. They have not. Moving on. Your hair was in a bun, those chocolate strands winding unnaturally natural around your beautiful face."
"Unnaturally natural?" The brunette questions.
"Oh don't act like those strands just happen to fall out. Ms. Perfect over here wouldn't allow it. I just feel sorry for the poor woman you tortured making sure even something as free as a fallen strand was controlled to look nice."
