I was moving. The first place I saw was OK but not great. It was sub-level. The next place was very old. I had looked at the schedule to find when I could practice piano. I had 6--11 but I knew I would not be up so I wrote 6--10. When I came back to the place I found a very, very old strange piano there. It was a couple of octaves short because they said most people didn't use those keys anyway. The keyboard was warped so it was unusual to play. (see drawing) Your hands had to reach over and down and not just flat. But to have my own piano I could get used to it. Zeb came by. I saw him on the other side of the street and I said, "Zeb," quietly and he heard me and came over. He was looking for music and I gave him all mine, but then I re-shuffled and gave him Mozart only because I know they would get along.