The Piano
Sasha
`The cool touch of the ivory keys lingers on my fingertips as they make their way elegantly across the scale, dancing over the notes in a delicate arpeggio, the chords ringing out, breaking through the bleak silence of a darkened room. A beacon of beauty to deafened ears, ears devoid of hearing, minds devoid of a pure, innocent thought. The music infuses into the very beings as my hands brush lightly across the cold hard surface, each note cutting into the gloom as if it were diamond tipped and sparkling, just as each sequence leaves a glittering residue in the air, to be consumed by the hearts of those invisible watchers.
The audience of insignifants, the hopeless, a light focussing behind their blank stares, a new lease of life as they breathe in the melody greedily, a hunger burning in their pupils and their irises blackening as the rings surrounding them singe with an indescribable passion. An urgency bites at them as, unfaltering, the music graces them with it's presence. For now they are safe, comforted, the tune as their safeguard from the harsh, unforgiving jungle around them. For until the fragile playing ceases to be, shatters like glass, instead of the diamond it represents to so many, all is right with the world.`
Sasha sighed heavily and replaced her notebook on the sidecabinet carefully, turning the key in the lock and tucking it into her pocket for safekeeping. She patted the faded denim of her jeans and felt the metal impress upon her leg. Good, it was still there. She didn't understand why it wouldn't be, she had only put it there five seconds ago but she felt the need to check, she became paranoid when it came to the contents of her journal. It was her sanctuary.
Her inspiration had run dry she thought wearily as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, catching a glimpse of her tattoo as she drew it away.
`Only Heaven is befitting of an angel such as yourself`
The sentence encircled her wrist in delicate script, the words elegant in classy black ink. She attempted to picture his face as she threw herself lightly onto her bed, his familiar blue eyes sparkling at her from behind her closed lids. She grasped at her subconcious trying to draw together all of his features, fearing she would forget. His sunkissed skin shimmered and a radiant glow reflected from his nutmeg hair as it framed his perfect face, enhanching his chiseled jawline and kindly smile, it was almost etheralike. He was a beautiful spectre, ghostlike in this materialised form of her memories and dreams. The lines between reality and fiction marred, blurred and difficult to distinguish between.
Sasha concentrated hard as the details began to trickle away rapidly. She tried to cling on with all her might but to no avail. He was gone, he would always be gone, one year today. Not even the music could save her anymore.
The audience of insignifants, the hopeless, a light focussing behind their blank stares, a new lease of life as they breathe in the melody greedily, a hunger burning in their pupils and their irises blackening as the rings surrounding them singe with an indescribable passion. An urgency bites at them as, unfaltering, the music graces them with it's presence. For now they are safe, comforted, the tune as their safeguard from the harsh, unforgiving jungle around them. For until the fragile playing ceases to be, shatters like glass, instead of the diamond it represents to so many, all is right with the world.`
Sasha sighed heavily and replaced her notebook on the sidecabinet carefully, turning the key in the lock and tucking it into her pocket for safekeeping. She patted the faded denim of her jeans and felt the metal impress upon her leg. Good, it was still there. She didn't understand why it wouldn't be, she had only put it there five seconds ago but she felt the need to check, she became paranoid when it came to the contents of her journal. It was her sanctuary.
Her inspiration had run dry she thought wearily as she stifled a yawn with the back of her hand, catching a glimpse of her tattoo as she drew it away.
`Only Heaven is befitting of an angel such as yourself`
The sentence encircled her wrist in delicate script, the words elegant in classy black ink. She attempted to picture his face as she threw herself lightly onto her bed, his familiar blue eyes sparkling at her from behind her closed lids. She grasped at her subconcious trying to draw together all of his features, fearing she would forget. His sunkissed skin shimmered and a radiant glow reflected from his nutmeg hair as it framed his perfect face, enhanching his chiseled jawline and kindly smile, it was almost etheralike. He was a beautiful spectre, ghostlike in this materialised form of her memories and dreams. The lines between reality and fiction marred, blurred and difficult to distinguish between.
Sasha concentrated hard as the details began to trickle away rapidly. She tried to cling on with all her might but to no avail. He was gone, he would always be gone, one year today. Not even the music could save her anymore.