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Music and misery
by Iwalda
Instinctively her fingers rush over the keys, knowing every one, her eyes closed. The rhythm of the music vibrates under her feet, the sounds flowing up the stairs into her soul, haunting her. But her thoughts are quarantined, emotions surfacing as fast as the beat.
It's a lonely night, just another Saturday, just feeling empty again. And still the beat goes on. Wishing she could turn her emotions on and off, louder and faster, just like the music, she sorrowfully sits in front of her metal friend. The one who's been with her through many lonely days and nights-- hoping it will, once again, befriend her, if only for a little while.
Her mind drifts, into a land of wishes; wishing the keyboard under her hands was a musical instrument. Instead it brings forth a hollow click clack sound with the alphabet strangely appearing on the screen in front of her. No music, but words being formed. No chords, minors or majors. No pianissimos or fortes, just more words pouring from her soul.
The click clack reaches a rhythm, her face wet, the taste of salt on her lips. Her friend has remained true, allowing her to share her dreams and fears, accompanying her to the mystery land, which only they know.
As the words pour from her heart and form sentences on the screen, freedom takes hold of her. She ends the music with an encore in her soul.
©2004 Iwalda
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