and Dad miss it?quot;

    quot;No, t; s;Al;

    quot;ell, I probably cant play anymore,quot; I said. quot;Its been years.quot;

    quot;You pick up fast,quot; said my motain. quot;You ural talent. You could been genius if you  to.quot;

    quot;No I couldnt.quot;

    quot;You just not trying,quot; said my mot as if to announce a fact t could never be disproved. quot;take it,quot; she said.

    But I didnt at first. It o me. And after t, every time I sa in my parents living room, standing in front of t made me feel proud, as if it were a srophy I had won back.

    Last  a tuner over to my parents apartment and ioned, for purely sentimental reasons. My motting ttle bit at a time. I put ters sted in yello ttle slits up t my skin, tissue and decided to take th me.

    After I uned, I opened touc sounded even ric es ten scales, togetape.

    I opened up to ttle piece I  tal. It -;Pleading C; It looked more difficult t es came back to me.

    And for t time, or so it seemed, I noticed t- ;Perfectly Contented.quot; I tried to play t er melody but turned out to be quite easy. quot;Pleading C;  slo;Perfectly Contentedquot;  faster. And after I played times, I realized two he same song.