Music in the Attic
By Ani Menkov
It woke me in the middle of the night.
Could’ve sworn that I heard – what was that?
Faint, sweet music.
But from where?
The attic.
So I rubbed my sleepy eyes,
and, warding off thoughts of monsters
with huge dinner plate eyes and long legs and altogether too many teeth all waiting ...
No. Stop.
I walked up the stairs of the attic, music getting ever closer.
I peered around the corner,
and there was my tough, older brother –
with a viola.
I was tempted to stay and listen to the slow, sad tune.
But I realized that perhaps it was better never to ever have seen this –
at all.
So I left.
