Rewriting page 9 of Grace Notes by Karen Comer
Ettie’s sitting in her floral-patterned arm chair. That chair used to live in her old home, not this place.
She’s sitting slightly hunched over, hands eagerly turning the pages of her book.
I hate how she looks like an advert for the house of sorrow. How charming she makes the nursing home look. How content she looks, chuckling lightly over a witty joke in her novel.
“Darling!” Ettie’s voice sounds louder than it is in the silence.
Her voice was elegant, accompanied by an airy wave. I lean down, pressing a kiss to her wrinkled cheek.
Placing my violin case on the ground, I open the latch, hearing the pop of the case. Placing the violin under my chine, I pull rub rosin over the string of the bow. Flicking open the tuning app on my phone I play a few notes, but Ettie waves an arm, moving me with a smile. I blush, closing my phone, I adjust the tuning pegs whilst Ettie listens. She smiles, waiting. The opening notes of “Bitter Sweet Symphony” drifting through the nursing home’s cold hallways. Ettie taps along with one hand on the cover of her book.