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Post by Jake Phillips on Nov 12, 2007 21:33:51 GMT -5
It was the first week back to school and Jake was just glad to be back at Webber. He was itching to get away from home and was dying to finally quit his summer job at the local water park.
Over the summer when he wasn't working, he would sit in his room at his keyboard and pound keys for a piece of material that he was playing around with.
Unfortunately, there was confusion with Jake's dorm for the year which was really frustrating. He supposedly was going to live in a single but now he might be living with a roommate. Since, he was stuck without a room for the time being he rolled his suitcase down Streistand Hall with his navy blue Jansport backpack on his back and into the music room which to his surprise was unlocked.
He looked around, looking to his right, looking to his left. Coast was clear. He opened the door and slipped into the vacant dim room. He walked over to the piano bench setting his suitcase at the leg of the piano and slipped off his backpack onto the floor next to his suitcase. He sat down at the piano bench, opening it and smiled down at the keys.
He began to play slowly at first, then the notes driving out of him. He played a haunting yet melodic tune.
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Post by Iris Jackson on Dec 28, 2007 19:04:55 GMT -5
Iris was bored. She had unpacked everything in her new dormitory and now she had nothing to do. So she went wandering, figuring it was better to get lost and find her way around when she didn't have class than when she did.
For some unknown reason she had ended up in the music department and now she had no idea what to do. Until she heard piano music coming from behind one of the doors. She crept through the door and saw a guy playing the piano. She leant back against the wall and listened to the music, sensing a private moment and not wanting to interrupt.
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Post by Jake Phillips on Feb 21, 2008 1:03:39 GMT -5
Jake continued playing the keys, the notes pouring out of him unaware that he had an audience. He's played this familiar tune many times that it has become second nature. He began to sing softly as he played.
Why do we play with fire? Why do we run our finger through the flame? Why do we leave our hand on the stove- Although we know we're in for some pain?
Oh, why do we refuse to hang a light When the streets are dangerous? Why does it take an accident Before the truth gets through to us?
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