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Piano Shoes
The follow me like a protective mother, except they want to hurt me. I don't live in the same world as you, and if you tried to find me, well you never would. The world I live in is called, Montary.
Of course you've never heard of it, and for good reason. Montary is my mind. I live inside my head, my thoughts, my desires, and fears. And right now, fear, is casting a large shadow.
Like I said, they follow me, and I can't stop running. If I do then I'm dead. I run in one repeating area, a stage.
I run on a stage in circles, around and around while they chase me. If I look out towards the seats I see no one. The crowd of people that should be present in a theater are not there.
Every once in awhile though, I'm relieved. In the center of a stage a piano appears, and next to it, a pair of shoes. Dress shoes to be precise. Nicely polished to shine and impress. My piano shoes.
Once these things appear I rush over and quickly put on the shoes, then sit on the bench in front of the piano and play furiously.
A dome surrounds me as I play. I try not to look up though, because they pound against it in anger. They press their faces against it and watch, faces of pure hate.
They have long sharp teeth, and eyes that are as white as snow, and their flesh is covered in scars, bumps, and rot.
Then once I finish my song I remove my shoes, then the dome falls, and now I'm running again.
This is my life, an endless repeat of workout then music. I'm tierd of it.
Thats why today, I'm running off stage and away.
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