A Lower Octave

The upright piano sat silent in the evening corner, its lower pedal board slightly ajar. I climbed onto a discarded felt coaster, stepping carefully near the brass sustain pedal. Inside the dark gap behind the pedal rod, a dried pencil had rolled and wedged itself tight, blocking the spring from recoiling cleanly. I braced against the lacquered baseboard, wedging the neck of my guitar beneath the yellow wood until the pencil shifted and popped free with a muted snap. The brass lever dropped into place, releasing a deep, muffled chime that traveled right through the floorboards beneath my feet. Quiet restored, balanced once more.