Prompt: Picture Essay
Distortion. Chaos. A soulless echo that faded into silence. It was just the broken piano. The one that had fallen in disrepair many years ago.
The broken piano stood in the secluded corner, unwanted. Its once ivory keys now greyed with time. Dust and cobwebs have tainted the ebony of the wood.
No one wants to play with broken piano but why is it still here? Why is it kept under storage, under the false hope of someone ever repairing it to its former glory? It was becoming a waste of space.
Yet despite all this, that stubborn piano continues to persist. It rots away in the darkness in hopes that maybe one day someone can finally fix it. I hope you get back to what you were once before.
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