Shattered Symphony: The Genius Lady Shines Again

ne of the crash. He wasn't looking at me. He w

ing her han

inding agony. Blood soaked my white blouse, turning it a heavy crimson

st kept pace with the docto

th a panic he never felt for me. "We have to prioritize. You

ty," I missed the crit

through concertos, healed into stiff, alien claws. The gr

I lived as a gho

ruined nerves. I watched him let her take credit for my music, steal my son's af

only checked to see if s

roke. I realized I wasn't his par

y called offering a position, I

ty, while fireworks exploded for the

medical negligence report on the counter, u

iting for him

pte

xia

to understa

calm. Terrifyingly

ey being rushed past us, the wheels screeching agai

ing her han

nding rhythm of absolute agony. I tried to lift it. I tried to s

leeve of my white blouse, turni

t like it was full of shattered gla

. He just kept pace with the do

panic I had never seen him feel for me. "We have to prioritize.

ro

he gilded cage he had been bui

firm but professional. "Ma'am, you c

oked out, pointing at

houlder. His eyes were blue ice, entirely devoid of the warmth

you later," he promised. "Just w

r

e silence of the hallway crashed down on me, h

to my chest, realizing that "us" didn't

ral damage they expect

neve

re

rong. The nerves were shot. My fingers, once capable of spanning octa

a black coffin. I walked past it every day

up smaller companies, swallowing up every second of his time. Whe

looked at

ng his tie with practiced apathy. He didn't wait for

oked at him. I saw the man I

ienna. I was twenty-two. I was going to be a composer.

exia. I need a partner.

mother Anton needed. I bec

simply part o

ftly. "I don't

. I have to check on Cassandra. She's st

room. He went to th

athering dust. I ran my deformed fingertips over the paper. I couldn't feel the texture. Th

my pocket. An int

it with m

ory, regarding the guest professor position. We heard about... your situ

tinging. Someone remembered. Someone thought I

. B

ir in this house was stale,

t then it steadied into something

lked over to th

ink. Anton's soccer games in blue. C

s nothin

I circled a date

ld stop waiti