Today's OneWord: Piano

Daddy bought Leslie a new piano, and it played a tune so flat that I could feel the floor level out beneath me as the notes pounded it. Flat, flat, flat. Leslie played it every day, though, and once Daddy hired a guy to retune the thing, suddenly the garish phrases became fairly elegant melodies.

Leslie played piano until the day she died. A week before she succumbed to leukemia, she played for the entire country with the New York Philharmonic. Everyone applauded, whether on theater seats or couches at home. I cried. And when Leslie smiled, her teeth were perfectly flat.