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Short Stories

Music

Imagine being an ancient human without word, without language to talk to each other. Being madly in love with someone without a way to show your affection. Being sympathetic to someone without being able to say your condolences. Being extremely happy for someone without being able to say you were. Until one day you realize that for all of these things a pulse, a beat inside of you changes. Whenever you are madly in love with someone this internal beat quickens and trembles a bit inside of you. Whenever you are feeling emotions of sadness or sympathy your internal beat slows down into a dull throb. Whenever you are happy you’re internal beat increases in speed and continues with a steady beat. This beat you feel, you wonder if those around you feel it to. You come up with an idea.

One day you sit next to the person you admire so dearly as you are harvesting food. Slightly you start beating your chest to match your heartbeat. The person next to you looks at you confused at first and then slowly comes into recognition of what you are doing. They take their hand and start mimicking their own internal beat. At first you are scared of their tempo which was too slow to display the same affection but soon they quicken their tempo to yours. At this recognition you rejoice and start spreading your beat to other people as well. Soon the whole village is going around and sharing their internal beats to other people and sharing up at points all together to feel this internal beat together.

Imagine years later where this internal beat this internal form of communication evolved. Now to a place where you can share this feeling by incorporating different layers of melodies, of dynamics, of tempos to fully explain what you or what a group of you are feeling. Now a person can listen to your internal beat and know fully what you think and what you feel. If they agree they can be brought closer together at the sound of your internal beat.

Music is what brought us together.

Categories
Short Stories

Song of the Sea

Looking over the water onto the sea, I think of memories that used to be. Memories that seem to be fading day to day like the tide of the ocean. Once in awhile the tide would be close and I would remember everything and others moments where the tide back and hidden in the fogs where I can slightly remember the feeling of long ago. When I realized one day that the tide grew further and further recessed in my mind, I pulled out a book and wrote of my time.

My time as a sailor on the sea where I sailed far and wide delivering supplies and necessities. I remember going from the city to city selling fresh fish, seashells and exports from other towns. The people I met were all nice and always unique in their own ways. What I would do to go back to those days out there on the sea. To smell the fresh breeze off of the salt water, to feel the rays of sun as I worked long and hard to maintain my ship. Alas those days are no more as I sit here and look at the shore.

I still fish every once in awhile. Whenever I get the strength to get up and limp down to the dock. As I got down there I would cast the line and watch the sailors prepare for their voyages across the sea, I wish I could join them. Or even see sailors get back from their expeditions and walk past with out paying any attention to me. Every time I feel slighted that I couldn’t do such as them anymore but then I remember that my time has came and gone. Now I just sit here and fantasize of what used to be as I listen to the song of the sea.