1
Another 15-minute write-off; the theme: Music. Enjoy.
Music
The music resounded in my ears. The fluttering of the flutes, the whispering of violins like the winds; the pitch getting higher and higher to the point of near pain before suddenly ceasing, then whispering again.
..........It was beautiful.
..........The instruments played on ever furious, the intense melody still somehow soothing. When the last note played, the crowd erupted in applause, and I with them. I clapped loudly, even after all others had ceased. People looked my way, but I continued until the music started again, ignoring the glances and staring of others. Satisfied, I quieted, leaning back in my chair, closing my eyes, and letting the music fill my ears.
..........Again the music came, and I let it inebriate my being, filling my mind with the sweet melody. This was my high. The thrill I sought. To hear the instruments playing together, faster and faster in a crescendo until the climax was met. The clashing of the cymbals, the blasting of the trumpets. The winds, the strings. These were what I loved.
..........My glasses had slipped slightly and I pushed them back up with my index finger. I ran my finger and thumb across my nose, wiping away an itch.
..........I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands. I stayed for a moment longer, listening to the sweet sound before I stood up from my chair.
~ :: ~
The gunshot reverberated throughout the small room as the man fell onto the now blood-stained carpet. The storage room was located directly beneath the large concert hall, and the glorious euphony could still be heard above.
..........The second man, on his knees, immediately began whimpering, begging for his life to be spared unlike his companion.
..........Most would want him silenced, but I did nothing, and ordered my men to do nothing, simply standing there as his sobs became more and more profound. It was music to my ears.
..........The music above us ceased, and I knew the concert was wrapping up. Too bad. I would’ve liked more time with him, I thought to myself as I put a bullet between his eyes.
..........I looked to the two men standing by the doorway. “Take care of the bodies,” I said simply. They nodded, and I walked out and back into the concert hall, clapping with the myriad of others at the talented musicians.
~ :: ~
~ Velox
They say music is the most beautiful thing. I wouldn't know; I've never heard it.
..........That might sound odd to the normal person who is connected to time and space, but I have not had the luxury of experiencing those concepts in a while. My physical, emotional, and intellectual existence were stipped away from me at one point in time, and now I exist as a mere spirit. The beginning of this story is a bit hard to explain in intellectual terms, as it sounds as if it was someting that happened in time, yet it happened all at once and yet not at all. To best explain, it was an idea, and ideas never "happen".
..........My only company was perhaps the spirit named Jack. I would have felt bad except the concept of feeling had been taken away from me, for he was fortunate enough to experience Creation on a more wholesome level, for he knew both time and space.
.........."They are playing good music in the 19th century," he told me, referring to the works of Beethoveen and Wagner. Yes, I knew of that, except I couldn't remember what it was like. Music had so many dimensions, and I had not.
.........."It sounds like it would be a wonderful concept," I replied. "If only I could remember what it was like."
..........Jack leaned in and whispered my name. My name. As it happens, it is impossible to name a person, for they transcend words. It was not an act of sounds such language or music, nor was it a visual image that depicted my identity in regular terms. It was beyond the mundane experience of communication through the senses, for there was no sensation to rely on. Our communication took the purest form, for Jack was talking in the language of spirits. It was a deep and personal acknowledgment of exactly who I was, beyond the mere string of ideas that made me up and more of a comprehensive understanding of the singular idea that was Me. It rung throughout the spirit realm: I AM.
.........."I will bring you back to your world and I will show you music," said Jack.
..........And that was when I discovered what music truly was.
..........Unfortunately, since he delivered on his promise, it has been so very easy for my mind, accustomed to the reality of the lowly conscious, to forget it, but every once and a while it comes back to me when I see Mary and understand her beauty, and when we sing together. When we sing, I hear the old song again, the song of who I was, and then I see it in her and await the day that I can see it more clearly.
But anyway, constructive criticism:
I find the subject matter a bit grim at the end and am not sure why it turned that way. Did you run out of ideas for describing the music and add a regular plot twist or were you randomly going through it without much thought? Either way, it didn't seem planned. This is a timed vignette, after all. I guess it's not the way I would have made a story, since even though you definitely set up a scene I felt that it lacked a distinct statement.
Perhaps that's me being the type of writer who goes for universally recognizable archetypes right away and tries to apply them to areas of life that will appeal to most readers. That includes my grandmothers, although one of them never reads fiction.
The second thing that stands out to me was what I supposed was the important part, which was the actual descriptions of music. I'm accustomed to trying to put the music of John Williams in words, since someday I'd love to direct a film and work intimately with a composer to create things with such distinct feels as Williams and classic composers such as Beethoveen, Bach, and Wagner. The thing is that I see so much in music. I often have music in my head, not so much the literal notes that compose it but the feelings behind those notes, and since I'm not the best of composers I try to explain it to people in terms of music, ad hopefully it will translate. In my mind it often does. Music has amazing power to direct, conduct, and narrate our perception of reality, and I suppose that I would have described it in those terms; that is to say, describe in detail the narrative created by the music. Otherwise, what I was getting was a description of instruments that lacked a real soul.
However, I imagined the music of Wagner while reading this to give me something to think about, since the initial beginning reminded me in a way of the short story A Wagner Matinee. It's really good and I would suggest it to anyone who reads this.
The final thought I had on the matter was that the villain (I think he was a villain) reminded me of Gary Oldman's character in The Professional. It's a really sick movie and I would not suggest it to anyone who reads this.
Your Honor,
Emperor Kraggh