The Seasons

A short story about the seasons and dealing with loss and love.

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2. Summer; Hope

I had mastered the art of music; Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, Kreisler were my commanders and I was a servant to the score. But this desolate place - under the cherry blossom tree, summer breeze brings forth myriad of blossom.

 

Out behind the blossom tree appears a pale boy, clutching his violin; hands aquiver, legs weak and weary. He blurts out “I knew you would be here, I’ve come to play for you”. Gloomy city skies, withered flower petals, I can sense the rain. “Music only brings suffering, I find no happiness in that sound” I say.

 

“Music exists to express emotion, listen” he says. His aquiver transforms into a state of tranquility, that mellifluous sound; a disclosure of colours . Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata; I reminisce in the sound - it is from a distant memory. I fall for that sweet sound like the flowers starting to growing wildly in the centre of my empty, withered heart.  

 

He turns and stops; breathless, gasping for summer wind. “When will I see you again” I ask. “Meet me under the blossom tree, with your violin” he says, aquiver returning. All of a sudden summer rain pours down on me, and as I leave I start to think that if people were rain, I was drizzle and he was a hurricane.

 

**************

 

I ponder once more under the blossom tree, my violin shrouded in pink petals. Appearing with a nervous nature, he says “you inspired me to play, so let me help you, pick up your violin”. Violin in hand, I play Kreisler Love’s Sorrow. But as I begin to play, I look down and fall into the deepest of oceans; solitude in oblivion. “You look down as you play, look up and pour your emotions into the music”  he says.

 

His beautiful voice, so soft, so delicate, it warms my lonely soul. Love’s Sorrow; an ephemeral encounter, transcended to purest of colours, it manifests my love.  This melody brings forth myriad of euphoria- I am transported to a distant land, an ethereal nature as my mother accompanies me in playing. A manifestation of colours pours down, as my mother says “turn to music, and the shadows will fall back behind you”. I return in a limerence state, I look at him with these hazel eyes of mine, but as I embrace him I am pushed away.

 

Aquiver intensifies, legs weaker and wearier. “I’ve loved you since I saw you, I fell in love with you and the way you play; slowly then all at once” he says. A state of ineffable felicity; I can now see stars in this velvet sky of mine. All of a sudden he collapses into the earth - panicked breaths. I now can remember which memory he was from; my mother's.

 
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