Amelia hadn’t gone through her great-uncle’s music box in ages. Some sheets were damaged by the fire. A puzzle she had always put on the ‘for later’ shelf presented itself to her now, with time on her hands.
There was a mambo, a waltz and a concerto to choose from. Then there was the singe-bordered piece that cried ‘mystery’ as the meter and starting notes were gone.
Music notebook and pencil in hand, Amelia sketched the first possible notes.
TamBorgia's NaNoWriMo 