The Song of Eternity

The Song of Eternity

A Story by Rose

Walking in the abandoned hallway after school, the boy forgets all else and lets himself think, truly think. He thinks about meaningless things; will the Yankees win their next game? Why is the sky blue? He thinks about concerning and worrisome things; what will happen next year if I still can't make a friend? I don't want to be all alone. He thinks about music, about shy minors, powerful majors, and white china keys. And, just then, as if he willed it happen with the mere thought of the notes, the boy hears a soft song start up from somewhere. 
He stops walking. Tilts his head. The music stops, then starts again; an ethereal tune. Captivating. Tentatively, the boy walks towards the notes, his footsteps resonating throughout the hall with an empty slap, slap, slap; a dreary sound no match for the tinkling tunes of the piano. He begins to pat his palm against his leg as he walks, the music getting louder and louder. The boy stops at a room, leans his ear against the door. Though the sound is muffled, it feels as if the boy was inside the room, by the piano, close enough to touch, to run his calloused fingertips over the sleek instrument.
The boy closes his eyes and sinks down to the floor, his back pressing solidly against the door. Pulls his knees up to his chest and sighs a happy sigh. Beneath his eyelids, colors burst and take shape, moving and dancing to the sound of the keys. Blue, purple, green fireworks; butterflies when the tune is light, blackness and rain as the song takes a heavy turn. The morning sun, the evening stars. Sounds of waves, of faeries and of sly snakes, smiling and waiting for the right time to strike. Suspense. The boy sees it all, feels it all.

When the song comes to a close, the boy is not ready for it. He looks around, searching for a way to capture this memory in a bottle and preserve it there, forever, where it would never grow stale. The C sharp, the last, lonesome note, travels into the still air, past the room, onto the moon and through the stars, then back to the hall and to the boy where he catches it in the palm of his innocent hand and locks it deep inside his heart. The boy smiles. He throws away the key. 


© 2016 Rose



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Added on July 14, 2016
Last Updated on July 14, 2016

Author

Rose
Rose

CA



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"The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill, for the caged bird sings of freedom." ~ Maya Angelou welcome to my .. more..

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