• Alex laid around his bedroom browsing the internet. He tried sleeping, but it was difficult. After 20 minutes of laying to himself, he would sit up and lip open the laptop. There was nothing new on the internet, yet he kept going to it. He couldn't figure it out.

    He might watch a television show or put on some music. He stuffed his head under a pillow and the fan turned.

    He wasn't uncomfortable but he wasn't feeling really good, either. He was in a state that didn't feel good, but there was no reason why. "Why can't I just sleep?"

    Beside the bed sat a Casio keyboard his girlfriend had bought months ago. It hadn't been played it quite a while. In fact, he hadn't touched it after the first week. It sat there playing as a bed stand. Alex felt bad, but it wasn't killing him. It was a slant guilt.

    He began to think about his father and how he would play for hours at night. He would play his guitar or his piano and just play something idly. It was something his father could do, and something Alex kind of thought he could do if he tried it. He just never picked up the guitar.

    Alex thought about the people in his life. The musicians and the artistians. They found their creative outlet, but Alex couldn't quite find his.

    He leaned up in his bed and sat on the edge. His eyes were tired and his legs ached.

    Alex stood up and cleared off his keyboard. He unplugged the laptop and stuck the big black box into the wall. The blue light turned on on his keyboard.

    He placed his fingers on the keys that he knew and played the first 20 seconds of Moonlight Sonata.


    At 30 seconds, he didn't know his route very well. He hit a wrong key. At 35 seconds, he no longer knew where to go and he stopped.

    He played the first 20 pretty well, he thought. They were pretty easy and they stayed in his head pretty well. There were notes that were hard to hit. "I wish I had bigger hands." Maybe it'd be easier, then.

    He played through to 35 seconds many times, trying to find his way. He was pretty good at recognizing the right notes, but finding them was very difficult. Strokes didn't come quite natural.

    After a little while, Alex sat at the keyboard and thought to himself. "Maybe some other time." He turned off the blue light and unplugged the keyboard.

    He slid under a sheet and laid with the fan. At least he was comfortable now, just coming from the hard chair and the awkward hand placements. He sighed and fell asleep.