Chapter 7 - Break your Heart (Drew)
Submitted October 26, 2007 Updated May 11, 2008 Status Incomplete | Separately, four people are talented artists. But together they become miraculous. They revolutionize a country by merely existing.
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Chapter 7 - Break your Heart (Drew)
Chapter 7 - Break your Heart (Drew)
She touched my arm at midnight with her soft fingers. She swallowed once before speaking, the little hollow in her throat fluttering.
"Could you come?" her voice... "I would like you to play with the violist." And then I could say what I had been wanting to say for ever so long.
"Yes, of course. I and my drums are yours."
She gave a beautiful smile. "Thank you."
I scuffled my sandaled feet and stood, beating away the dust on my tunic. But instead of leading me to the old man's fire, she turned to the platform. In the middle of the black stage sat a small brown boy. His hair, eyes, skin and clothes were all the color of desert dust, but in his hands he held a bright red flute. Red as strawberries, wine, blood or poppies. Cherries or rubies. He raised this tomato flute to his lips and gave a trill when he spotted us. As if called, the old violist stepped onto the platform as well. At that moment we were together for the first time.
"Welcome," said the elderly man. "Shall we play?"
"Yes," replied the brown boy with the red flute. So I placed my drums and gave a beat. It was simplistic, easy, and a little wary. I did not know why we were playing together for no audience. But when I saw the girl tap a heal, I understood. This was just what we did. The viola quivered a deep weaving thread that twisted into the drums. I thought it was the only music I had ever heard. It was beyond beautiful, deeper than wild. Nothing could surpass it, until the lobster red flute came in. It added everything. Suddenly, our music opened doors, revolutionized, changed, transformed everything it touched. It was the most cleansing music I had ever heard. It would break your heart.
So I let the pulse intensify. Just to make the girl's skirt flow faster, to see the boy's fingers flicker over the red metal, to see the viola's strings tremble as the grandsire matched his chords. I had always understood that music did something to the soul, but this was supernatural.
"Could you come?" her voice... "I would like you to play with the violist." And then I could say what I had been wanting to say for ever so long.
"Yes, of course. I and my drums are yours."
She gave a beautiful smile. "Thank you."
I scuffled my sandaled feet and stood, beating away the dust on my tunic. But instead of leading me to the old man's fire, she turned to the platform. In the middle of the black stage sat a small brown boy. His hair, eyes, skin and clothes were all the color of desert dust, but in his hands he held a bright red flute. Red as strawberries, wine, blood or poppies. Cherries or rubies. He raised this tomato flute to his lips and gave a trill when he spotted us. As if called, the old violist stepped onto the platform as well. At that moment we were together for the first time.
"Welcome," said the elderly man. "Shall we play?"
"Yes," replied the brown boy with the red flute. So I placed my drums and gave a beat. It was simplistic, easy, and a little wary. I did not know why we were playing together for no audience. But when I saw the girl tap a heal, I understood. This was just what we did. The viola quivered a deep weaving thread that twisted into the drums. I thought it was the only music I had ever heard. It was beyond beautiful, deeper than wild. Nothing could surpass it, until the lobster red flute came in. It added everything. Suddenly, our music opened doors, revolutionized, changed, transformed everything it touched. It was the most cleansing music I had ever heard. It would break your heart.
So I let the pulse intensify. Just to make the girl's skirt flow faster, to see the boy's fingers flicker over the red metal, to see the viola's strings tremble as the grandsire matched his chords. I had always understood that music did something to the soul, but this was supernatural.
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redclaw on January 16, 2008, 6:07:03 AM
redclaw on
lol, like the way he describes the color ofthe flute.