parlour · sixty-one years · last played christmas eve
a reed organ, mahogany veneer, two foot-pedals you worked like a bellows. it sat against the wall where the photograph of the grandfather sat above it. it played hymns and one waltz the grandmother liked.
the felts are stiff now. mice have taken out one of the bass reeds entirely. the keys still go down. the air still moves through. only certain notes come back, and those slower, less in tune with themselves than they were.
the mirror in the upper panel reflects mostly its own dust. the wax of the candle on top has finished a slow journey to the floor.
field-note: depress middle C and wait. you will hear it eventually.