Noel

Another one for school; this time we had to incorporate a 'flashback' into the work.

Lost in what I so wrongly referred to as 'work', my fingers were a spider across the keyboard and mixer. After having finally laid down a perfect take of the secondary vocal track, I was content to relax into the mastering. Second guitar sounds too mellow; filter the treble through a harsher jazz amp. Bring up lead vocal mid range for the chorus. By this point it came quite naturally to gravitate immediately to the flaws in my music.

Blinking as it skimmed over level visualisations, the cursor drew to the end of the track, while the guitar, with no inputted sound, hissed and buzzed. I cut it back and took it from the top. With a subtle flange, the guitar lead in. A high toned snare kept time on the offbeat and I breathed deeply, letting the lyrics sink into me as I cast my mind back to penning the song the previous autumn.

Golden leaves tumbled down Devon Street and the sun beat down on me. My steps were awkward; I'd spent the past six hours in a composition seminar. Now, in the central city, I waited at the four way crossing behind a tanned old man with a cigarette bobbing loosely between his chapped lips. Ribbons of stale smoke hung in the air, and I found the bitter scent oddly comforting. The man turned to face me, his sunken eyes locking with mine.

'I knew you were a good person,' he whispered, halfway baring crooked, rotten teeth in an almost cheeky grin. Skin, thin and worn, crinkled like burning paper at the corners of his eyes. Nodding politely, I tried to find that distinctive sweetness in his breath but he smelled only of tobacco. At the flashing of the little green man on the lights, he took another drag and stepped out into the crawling mess of people.

'What's your name?' he asked, glancing back over his shoulder at me. We mounted the curb in unison, but his stride was longer than mine and I almost ran to keep up.

I answered simply, 'Emily.' Suddenly he stood still, offering me a rough, calloused hand. Thick and strong, his fingers closed firmly around mine as I placed my paler fist in his. Somehow I felt safe with this man.

'I'm Noel,' he said. Giving my hand a squeeze, he led on, and as we walked I found I didn't care for the strange looks cast my way. 'You got a good heart, Emily,' he added. My only response was to thank him quietly.

He continued, his line of though irregular and unpredictable, yet stable. 'You know what we got to do?' he began. 'The best thing we can give to other people is our knowledge.' I nodded again. 'That's the most important thing we can share.'

And again I was lost for words. I opened my mouth in search of a reply, but any semblance of one was left behind as I was pulled into a tight hug. Noel's hand touched lightly on my back and he repeated, 'you're a good person.'

When I stepped away he let me go gently. Finally syllables seemed to form of their own accord, though they were messy.

'I was on my way to buy a guitar,' I said, not certain whether I was talking to him or myself. 'Think I'm going to call it Noel.' Falling into a secure sense of peace, I looked back up. Noel was gone, but it seemed okay; the world made a little more sense.

Leaning back into the rigid chair, I released a breath I didn't realise I'd been holding. 'Noel says with our knowledge, we could save the world,' my own voice sang. I listened and I understood.