923

A short story, tell me what you think

A man with horn-rimmed glasses and a black sweater enter the hotel with a violin case and a traveling bag by each of his side. He stepped up to the receptionist and said “Are there any vacancies”

To which the receptionist replied “Yes there is and each has room has its prices, is there a price range you feel more comfortable with”

“Any will do but as long as I have the chance to practice my violin without disturbing other guests” answered the horn-rimmed glasses man.

“Yes room 923 is far enough that no guest should report a discomfort because of noise”

“Then I will take it, and can I have it for 3 nights, thank you.”

“Alright sir, there is complementary breakfast every day, just call us to tell us if you like to have some, you can do so by pressing the number 9 on the phone, you can also hear what we will be serving and if you have any other questions, pressing 3 will reach me and I will be glad to answered any questions you may have.”

“Thank you, I will keep that in mind” said the man as he left with the key in his hand to his room.

He set down his traveling bag, and then began to open his violin case. He took a small breathe as he began to let out a sweet melody, felling the room with an unfelt sorrow.  He lost himself, any person nearby would stop to hear it, the song he chose to start with piece called “Adagio for Strings” by Samuel Barber. He is swept, being pulled to a world that only his hands and ears experience. No pictures appear, but images keep flowing, moving too quickly to get a good look, yet slow enough to feel their presence.

He plays for an hour before he placed his violin down and begins to read. He will be presenting a paper to a group of peers about quantum teleportation, rereading allows for him to verify everything is correct. He stayed there and checking as much as he could, knowing what word comes next without looking down at his paper.

His excitement was showing each time he reread the paper. He dedicated most of his life, failures, and missteps, are what he knows oh too well. He is finally getting a chance to present a childhood dream, one that he wanted to complete more than even breathing itself.

He looked at the violin he has had since he was a young boy, a token of good luck charm and serenity created with would and decorated with string.  Nothing greats such tranquility for him, and sends the jitters on a different trip the hearing the sound of his precious violin. So where he goes, his violin is close to him. A loved one that will forever travel this road of dreams and nightmares we call life.