A love in chords

I found myself back there again, the cream-coloured walls held no warmth, the sound of my shoes broke the silence as I travelled down the corridors, while my ears strained to hear the sweet call of your instrument.

The metallic chords sounded faint in the distance, but slowly got louder with every step I took. I soon found myself running down the abandoned hallways, the ghosts of classmates now only shadows. I spotted the ajar door and wasted no time as I let myself in.

            Hunched over your electric guitar you continued to strum and pluck at the strings, your left fingers shifted and moved independently as your hand slid along the slender neck, your vivid dyed hair colour softened by the setting sun.

Each time I came here, something about you seemed to vanish - the sparkle in your eyes, the shape of your lips, even how your voice sounded in my ear as you caressed my neck. The one thing that remained were the notes, as they continued to tell the stories and sing the songs that had flown from your mouth when we were alone.

I made my way to take a seat on a nearby desk, keeping my footsteps as quiet as possible, so as not to disturb the scene in front of me. My legs dangled as I placed my hands on the edge of the table, my posture resembled a statue keeping watch from a gothic tower.

            From this angle more of your features came into focus - the glint of a piercing which rested on your lower lip complimenting the one that jutted out of the side of your nose, the multicoloured tie that hung limp from your dishevelled collar. The corner of your mouth opened slightly; your tongue darted out as you focused intently on the changing chords as the tempo of the song increased. You poured your passion into the piece, the notes flying from the guitar in a melodic frensy.

            Suddenly you jumped to your feet, the jangle of the chain that dangled from your trousers barely audible as you frantically strummed the strings while simultaneously sliding your hand up and down the neck to find the next chord. Your hair parted to reveal your eyes, clamped shut as you allowed the melody to sweep your mind away from this place.

I knew that, as the tempo began to slow, the time would be short, and I would feel that knot in my chest once again. I wanted you to keep playing, to pluck one more note, for inspiration to hit - anything just to hear you communicate through your instrument, so that I could know what went on in that brilliant mind of yours.

But, as always, I knew the song had once again reached its natural conclusion. I watched as you stretched your arms above your head, letting out a groan that never left your throat, before you quickly slid the electric blue guitar into the nearby bag and shrugged it onto your shoulders. I waited for a while as I watched you leave, the silence hung heavy in the still air and somehow felt more deafening than anything you had ever played. Once again the empty space you left behind was filled by a crushing loneliness that consumed me, accompanied by the departure of the sun as twilight gave way to night.

            I sat bolt upright, the feeling of the soft duvet that covered my body brought me back to reality as your silhouette remained for a moment, before fading into the inky darkness of the room. I sighed to myself before leaving the warm cocoon of the bed, eventually making my way past the window that overlooked the neon-coloured skyline of the city, pulling the nearby chord to light the bathroom.

After I took a few sips of water from the tap I looked at my reflection and examined the face that stared back at me. The image in the mirror before me was familiar yet somehow felt off - a few more grey hairs glinted in the fluorescent light pouring from the bulb above, the shadows beneath my eyes looked a little deeper, and that spark that had once lived there seemed dimmer than before. My fingers pressed against the skin softly, wondering when it had started to lose its taught smoothness before my mind drifted back to thoughts of you as I exited the bathroom.

            As I sat on one of the nearby chairs and stared out of the window I couldn’t help but think to myself, what had become of you in the time that had passed since we were there - had you followed that burning passion of yours, started a band and made your mark on the world in your own way? Did you choose to start a family instead, or decide to settle into a regular job working for ‘the man’? Did you keep your piercings in or take them out, stowed away in a dark forgotten corner of a cupboard, waiting to be rediscovered one day?

Endless questions rushed through my mind as I listened to the symphony of the city that filled the air. The bright lights of the skyline remained perfectly still as one question jumped to the front of my mind and silenced all others.

Do I want the answers? 

After all, if I found them, it wouldn’t change how time had marched on, that we had followed different paths in life. Would they make your appearance different when I returned to that room of eternal sunset, or would it make that place vanish from my mind like so many other things?

            I sat in silence for I don’t know how long, my eyes focussed on the still unmoving cityscape on the other side of the window. My mind emptied itself of the intrusive thoughts but left the feeling of warmth in my chest, allowing me to become settled before I returned to the bed, which patiently awaited my return.

I don’t know how many times I’ll be able to return to that room, if one day I’ll just be staring at an anonymous blob playing a guitar, if it’ll be empty and abandoned, or if it would simply cease to exist. But for now I’ll keep sleeping, keep dreaming, and one day I’ll hear that familiar sound of your fingers on those metallic strings, calling to me.

And as always, I’ll come running, just to hear you play one more time.

Reviews

[Richard🖌]

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Bore da, Annwyl Arglwyddes Awdur 🥀

Yn gynnes, rwy’n eich croesawu i’r Caffi, ac yn edmygus eisiau ichi wybod cymaint yr wyf wedi mwynhau eich stori. Mae gennych ddawn go iawn i baentio lluniau geiriau, emosiwn, creadigrwydd, a dod â'r olygfa'n fyw.
Gan fy mod yn fardd syml, ychydig a wn i am straeon beirniadol, ond rydw i'n gwybod beth rydw i'n ei hoffi a beth sy'n fy mlino'n ddwfn ... yn bendant mae gan eich ysgrifbin yr hyn sydd ei angen i'm swyno a'm dal o'r dechrau i'r diwedd.
Beth allai fod yn harddach na breuddwydio mewn atgofion cerddorol lliwgar.✨

Unwaith eto, "Croeso."
Gobeithio y byddwch chi'n aros, yn mwynhau rhannu'ch gwaith, yn gwneud llawer o ffrindiau, ac yn gefnogwyr ... cofleidiau a bendithion diolch cynhesaf am eich rhannu chi! ⁓ Rishardt 🍃

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Good morning, Dear Authoress 🥀

Warmly, I welcome you to the Café, and admiringly want you to know how very much I've enjoyed your story. You possess a real talent for painting word pictures, emotion, creativity, and bringing the scene vividly to life.
Being a simple poet, I know little of critiquing stories, but I do know what I like and what stirs me deeply … your pen definitely has what it takes to captivate and hold me from beginning to end.
What could be more beautiful than dreaming in colourful musical memories.✨

Again, "Welcome."
I hope you will stay, enjoy sharing your work, make many friends, and fans … hugs and blessings of warmest thanks for sharing You! ⁓ Richard 🍃

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