Mellifluous

Class got cancelled unexpectedly; on the walk back, I wandered into the piano lobby. There’s a song I’ve been listening to, Vanilla Twilight, that has a really beautiful melody. It’s by Owl City, an outdated band I haven’t really listened to since I was twelve and meditating on fields and spouting things about sunsets. But the song’s stuck with me for years because it’s sad and pretty and meaningful.

So I played that by ear, and it was surprisingly easier than I thought it’d be. The song sounds rife with minor notes and I’m rustier with minor black keys (couldn’t tell you if it were sharp or flat, just that it’s some sort of minor). It was mostly major notes. Simple melody. And the chord progression was predictable, too. In retrospect, maybe that’s why I find the song beautiful over a period of time, because it adheres to the magical unsaid rules of predictable melody.

A boy named Bryan stood behind me for a few minutes while I was talking with my friend at the piano. I turned to him, figured he wanted to play. He said that he just wanted to tell me that the piano-playing was beautiful. I thanked him, and then he swiped back into the building. It was kind of him to say and made me really happy.

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