For Solo Cello, op. 12
I need a couple of readers for this before I submit it. 1450 words, science-fiction. Any takers?
His keys dropped to the floor. Julius stared at them, unwilling to look at his outstretched left arm. At the bandaged stump where his hand had been two weeks ago. He should be used to it by now. He should not still be trying to pass things from his right hand to his left.
The shaking started again. Julius pressed his right hand–his only hand, against his mouth so he did not vomit on the floor and breathed through his nose, reaching for calm. He imagined playing through Belparda’s Ã‰tude No. 1. It focused on bowing, on the right hand. When he was ten, Julius had learned it on a cello as big as he had been. The remembered bounce of the bow against the strings pulsed in his right hand.
He tried not to think about the fingering.
“Jules, are you all right?” Cheri’s voice made him jump.