The Depths of Music
Chapter 1 : Mon Musique est Mon Vie
Concert Hall. The auditorium is empty except for this one boy. He is playing cello. His pose so eloquent, every movement is so fluid, so percise. Each note rings triumphantly throughout the hall, echoing in the minds of all who hear him. Yet the only one who hears him is himself, and a small shy girl who hides her face up in the balcony above him.
The girl has listened to the boy play since he had first started playing in the auditorium.
It was a Monday, about three months ago, when she had stumbled upon the boy. It was while walking to lunch that she had heard a piano being played, quite softly, in the auditorium. Wondering who it was she had wandered in to find out. Ever since she was an infant she had known about her unique ability. She had perfect pitch. Not only, though, did she have perfect pitch, but she also had an extreme actue sense of hearing. So she watched the boy play his piece, while hiding behind the curtain so not to be seen, and listened to the wonderful story his music painted. The melody dueled with the harmony, fighting for power, yet the music tickled the ear with such grace it seemed almost playful. Enticed and entranced the girl watched until the very last note.
Then the music slowly faded into nothingness...
And as if a switch was flicked the boy froze and listened to the swinging velvet curtains and the empty auditorium. The silience was being reflected throughout the auditorium, cutting the fleeting thoughts like a hot knife cuts through butter...
The girl has listened to the boy play since he had first started playing in the auditorium.
It was a Monday, about three months ago, when she had stumbled upon the boy. It was while walking to lunch that she had heard a piano being played, quite softly, in the auditorium. Wondering who it was she had wandered in to find out. Ever since she was an infant she had known about her unique ability. She had perfect pitch. Not only, though, did she have perfect pitch, but she also had an extreme actue sense of hearing. So she watched the boy play his piece, while hiding behind the curtain so not to be seen, and listened to the wonderful story his music painted. The melody dueled with the harmony, fighting for power, yet the music tickled the ear with such grace it seemed almost playful. Enticed and entranced the girl watched until the very last note.
Then the music slowly faded into nothingness...
And as if a switch was flicked the boy froze and listened to the swinging velvet curtains and the empty auditorium. The silience was being reflected throughout the auditorium, cutting the fleeting thoughts like a hot knife cuts through butter...