Papa laid in the hammock, rocking himself with his foot on the wall.

I was on the floor, playing with a few dolls.

Papa had found a box in his old closet that was full of different Sans plushies a few days ago.

He said I could have them.

They were a bit dusty but still soft and in pretty good shape.

There's one of Ink. It looked older and more worn down than the others. Papa had frown and looked away sadly when I pulled it out.

I decided to put it in back the box.

As I played around, Papa sat up and used his strings to pull out a case from the closet.

He set it in his lap and popped the case open.

Gently he pulled out his polished red wood violin and bow.

I smile, dropping my dolls for now to climb into the hammock.

Papa played the most beautiful music. He didn't play much, sadly.

But when he did my brothers and I would sit around him and listen. Like a mini concert.

I struggled slightly to get up, nearly tipping our bed. Papa helped me a bit and I settled across from him.

I watched eagerly as he fiddled with the strings and bow. Making sure it was all right and toned.

After a while he finally looked to me with a smile and began to play.

A soft familiar melody echoed through the room as Papa glided the bow with skill and ease.

I humming along as the melody rolled on.

My eyes became heavy.

With a soft yawn I moved into Papas lap, mindful of his arms.

A curled up and tugged a blanket over myself.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep.