For many quiet days Celeste spent drinking away her sorrows with a bottle of Irish whiskey her grandfather left behind. She has grown accustom to the taste of alcohol, and lights up her grandfather’s pipe to finish off her spiral downhill emotions as she sat nude by her warm evening fire. The burning spirit of liquid helped battle her numb thoughts as she takes the last of the liquid in gulps, and places the empty glass on the end table by her chair. She picks up her grandfather’s pipe and takes several long puffs off the smoking vessel, and places the pipe down in her ash tray only to pick up her heavy body to wonder around the house doing nothing. A baby grand piano sits all alone in a sun room Henry made for his wife as the cowgirl stumbles into the dark room. It has been ages since she placed her fingers on the key board to play a tune. With one finger she hits the ivory pad to hear a musical sound; and before she knew it, Celeste is sitting on the piano bench ready to strike the keys in anger. She breathes deeply and blows out her air to attack the beautiful music maker without being hateful. A musical song instantly forms in her mind of Claire de Lune (Suite Bergamasque No. 3) in piano her grandfather’s favorite tune. She remembers how long it took her over a year for her fingers to chime out the classical notes with beauty, and begins to play the breathtaking song with tears in her eyes. Her sad hopeless energy strikes the keys on the piano and is lost in the world of capturing the intensity of each music note with accuracy and passion. When finished hitting the last note on her music box, she sat lifeless in the dark until the black dog caught her attention, and whined to come in by the sun room’s window.
She rises slowly and moves towards the French doors to let the beast inside. The cold wind caressed her skin in the winter solace season as she opens the doors without thought. The rush of the bite y air awakens her drunken mind to dance outside under the pale moonlight nude. She shakes her wild long blonde hair off her shoulders and takes a step outside to obey the calling. Her nipples immediately stood at attention, goose bumps covered her body. Celeste spots the beautiful glow of the moon and cast her blurry vision in the pitch black woods ready to run a muck in the darkness with no clothes on. She jumps forward in surprise when the damn dog bumps her rump with his Popsicle nose. The black hound sounds off his worry to her, she pats his head in reassurance she won’t do anything stupid like playing her childhood games in the forest. In slow motion she turns her back on the night to return to the warm cozy fireplace to drink her Irish Whiskey in peace with her homeless friend.