No, no. Your posture. It's all wrong! The musician roared as she stormed over to where the boy stood. With vibrant force, her fingers grasped his thin wrist and propped it up. She jerked his head back with a free hand. Now, from the beginning!

Zaefis grimaced. The new position forced unto him was painful, but he would cope. He wondered when this lesson would end. He was anxious to get out. Hands occupied, he blew wandering strands of lavender hair out of his face, then rested eyelids before violet eyes. He began to play.

You're still not doing it right! erupted from the instructor almost immediately. Already, her piercing screech of a voice whipped the air. The boy braced himself for another tirade. Not even five minutes had passed since he heard the last one.

Your flats come out too high! Sharp, even! Goodness gracious, I've taught ruffians more talented than you! It came. Zaefis' eyes found themselves focusing attention on the nearby wall clock. It was just a little before 11 o'clock. He wondered what it would be like two minutes from now. Probably not much different.

Look at me when I'm speaking, you-- She didn't get to finish, for her eyes, too, momentarily wandered over to the same wall clock. Oh.. Oh my goodness. Is it time already? I had no idea I let it slip from me!