#095 Three of Ink
It was heartbreaking news. There was only one thing for her to do. She walked over to her record player, pulled the needle head up and to the right to start it, then dropped.
The familiar crackle before the music started calmed her instantly. A recording of her mother playing the violin. It was a memory so strong she could see her standing in the middle of the living room, three pages of handwritten sheet music on the stand, through her childhood and teen years. But noticeably absent for her wedding and divorce. And now she would join her soon.
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