| I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten all about our thread.. so, here it is! St. Pepin's Vineyards 538 Mew's two legs carried her across the wooden floor of the old building, it creaked and complained at her weight, but she knew she could trust the building to stay up. She'd always found them interesting, but until now she hadn't realized what a goldmine they were. This building was the one the humans had lived in, it seemed, and various other buildings close to it seemed like storage-room of some kind. She knew they had made a drink called "wine" here, but she'd never tasted it, and knew nothing of how they had made it either. The things that made this place a goldmine, she had found in the living room. Originally she had entered the building to escape the rain; it was now kicking and whipping at the windows, sometimes hitting half-shattered glass or even whole windows, sometimes going through and splashing across the floor. Despite the bad weather and the fact that quite a few window frames lacked glass it was still comfortably dry and still inside. In the living room she had found a piano. She'd never seen one, but from the books she had found, telling of human music, she'd often seen a set of rectangles in white and black, in a pattern. And how the tones had names, just like on the guitar. Instantly, when she saw it, she'd walked up and pressed a key. The sound had been.. interesting. It sounded like the strings of her guitar did when they were desperately out of tune, and very very very old. Mew made her own strings, but sometimes she couldn't be arsed to do so, and the sound from old strings were similar to this. Still there was a wholly different quality in sound, and Mew decided she might have to dig around for a book on pianos. Perhaps this instrument could be saved, like she had saved the guitar? If she worked on it it might even be playable. The thought was delightful. She had tried to sit down on a little chair-like item that was pushed up against the piano, but it had collapsed under her weight. The remains of the chair revealed another gold mine, however. Among the dust and pieces of wood a whole bunch of paper had spilled out across the floor. Mew got down on her knees to study them; yes, they were music sheets! So the chair had been a little storage-room for music sheets. Convenient. But, these sheets were of the kind she had only limited knowledge of. She normally used a system that had the word "TAB" above small squares that resembled the strings on her guitar, but this was meant for the piano, probably. She could try to read it and sing, though. And she knew where the tone C was on this five-lined system. Quickly taking her guitar out of her shoulder-bag and striking a C, she attempted to follow the melody. It was a tale of love, and Mew smiled as she sang, suddenly oblivious of her surroundings. She always was when she sang. One evening for pleasure I rambled. To view the fair fields all alone. Down by the banks of Loch Erin. Where beauty and pleasure were known. |
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