Letters from Narya, Part I

Dear Piano-Playing-with-the-Windows-Open Neighbor:

You suck.

I understand that you may be playing for your own enjoyment, and, on some level, I applaud that. If there are deities, they could could certainly attest to my own amateur status in nearly everything I do. I have played sports--and, for that matter, an instrument, many decades ago--and I never achieved a level of competence that would cause someone to mistake me for a professional. I had fun, though, and, while I was doing those things, I tried not to inflict my fumbling efforts on people who weren't similarly fumbling.

You, however, play--badly!--for hours and hours on end, and you subject unwilling others to your efforts. If I sit in my sunroom--possibly my favorite spot in the whole place--during the months of the year the windows can be open, I am forced to endure your tuneless banging away. Even the Loaner Cat sleeps with her paw over her ears so she doesn't have to listen. Stop it, please. Close the windows when you play, or I may be forced to figure out in which apartment you dwell--across the street, I believe--and come visit you with an implement of destruction in hand.

Thank you--
Narya