Reminds me of a story. When I was 8 years old my mother signed me up for piano lessons. Considering I have practically no sense of rhythm, the piano was particularly frustrating. One time I came home from school on piano lessons day and decided I'd had enough. I told my Mom I was going to start my homework in my room and went into the basement where I hid in a rarely used closet in the dark. A few minutes later I heard Ms. Niedermeyer arrive and my mother's calls. I held my breath and held my ground by which I mean I remained hiding like a bratty little coward. As my mother marched through the house her screams grew more and more frantic and I felt as though I approached the moment of no return, passed it, looped back around and now my mother's panicked and shrill cries were growing extremely unhinged and I had no exit plan on this one. I was trapped in the closet, a prison of my own creation.Read the rest over at NOISEY.
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