Little Girl With A Blue Piano

There's a little Asian girl, no bigger than a tiny doll, in the house next door who practices the piano in the afternoons and there is something sad about it. She sounds a bit tortured in her clumsy fingering. She sounds like she'd like to be anywhere else in the world. She is simultaneously heavy-handed in her plunking and tenative, as if to say with every note she attacks "can this possibly be the right one?" I get the feeling her shoes don't even brush the carpet below her as she sits reluctantly on the piano bench. The music haunts me. I want to rescue her and give her a pink soccer ball to kick freely up a green grassy hill and help her run far far away from that blue piano.