Filed Under (Microfiction) by Tansy on 14-02-2013

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Chad hated these Talk-to-the-Freaking-Old-People social responsibility assignments. He liked Mr Tanner well enough, but the Home gave him the creeps and he had a ton of homework (video games) to do. “I was a pianist, you know,” Mr Tanner said, smiling. “And when I lost my sight, I could still play; I knew every key with my fingertips.” Chad shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “And when arthritis took my hands, I found that I enjoyed listening to music almost as much as playing it. Then my ears started going.” “Jeez, Mr. Tanner,” Chad said, feeling sad for the guy, “That’s rough.” “It isn’t,” the gentleman sighed, content. “Now, when my hearing aids are off for the night, I feel the beating of my own heart and my mind plays back voices from my past – things I never listened to when the words were first said. I was looked after. I was appreciated. I was believed in. I was loved. This silence – which isn’t silence at all, really – is better than anything Mozart ever wrote.” Chad studied the old man, smiling in his chair, and decided that Skyrim could wait.

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