I was in the hospital today when my grandmother died. I saw her take her last breath. It was unremarkable after sitting in a tiny room for several days in hopes of observing the event, like someone waiting in line for a concert, watching her children jump up to hold her hand every time she coughed in her sleep. I expected something more dramatic, having never seen anyone die except on the news and on those horrible videos my ex would make me watch. Sure, I've seen dead bodies at funerals, but...

...beacause Selene encouraged me to at least try, whether I was perfect at it or not.
The piano is not one of my usual instruments, and I always feel nervous playing one.

When something really good happens, it seems inevitable that something is going to go wrong. The sax turned out to be an old consignment that my friend sold me in error, and I'm going to have to wait to see what I still owe her, if I even get to keep it. I had it appraised online, and the person said that, in this condition, it was worth about $250, which is over twice what I originally paid for it. I'm willing to make up the difference, if the person who sold it to me doesn't find an old consignment...

...would it be dishonest if I didn't tell the person I bought it from that she undercharged me because of the identification error?

This is what I have.

This is an antique clarinet.

...

I'm officially out of my anxiety-inducing work environment. I will be taking care of my grandmother without getting paid, but my family will be providing food and shelter. I've been thinking about ways to make money, and my most recent idea is to take old, worn out clothes, piece the scraps together, and make fancy gowns out of them. The contrast of the poverty and elegance would be unexpected and meaningful. Now that I have my own sewing machine, I will be free to experiment as creatively as...