As it turns out, sometimes out greatest fears, contain are greatest hopes and dreams
That night, Cipriano’s mother tossed and turned in bed, finding it virtually impossible to achieve that evasive sleep. The pianist in herself, among other things found she was amazed, surprised, thoughtful, full of admiration… while the mother that lived in her felt confused, anguished, fearful, excited (he was but a child, for Christ’s sake!). Anyhow, the long night came bundled together with a wealth of thoughts and a sea of ambivalent feelings that stirred deep down inside.
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Meanwhile, all the way in the back of her mind, Doña Pilar listened to Cipriano simple little tune, again and again, like it happens when a melody sticks to the mind and repeats itself until we are fed up with it, but we can´t let it go, either.
She fought a sudden impulse to jump violently out of bed, for her husband was asleep, by her side. For a moment, she lay quietly contemplating his silhouette in the silence of the dark night. With an exaggerated care, she got out of bed, careful not to interrupt her husband’s peaceful slumber.
As she left the warmth of the blankets, she felt the cold Bogota night envelop her. She got into her favourite robe and quietly went out of the bedroom. Reaching the piano parlour, she turned on a few gas lamps and closed the door. Quietly the rest of the house was left far behind and far away…
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