I draw the bow across the strings, the trembling G of Chopin's Largo, and wait for the small gap of time suspended between noise and its absence, the space where the note vibratos into nothingness. I lower the bow, and the hall thunders.
Planes careen into fields and skyscrapers, a cacophony of metal and fire. After, the sky stills, an eerie instant slouching towards an infinity of sorts. I rest my cello in its velvet-lined case, and close the lid.
You enter this world amidst the clack and clatter of machinery, the urgency of voices, and the stench of laser-burnt skin. The surgeon reaches into my abdomen and your head crowns, waxed with blood. The surgical suite melts into white static and you yelp your hello.
Your science project involves water tension and other physics I do not understand. I watch you release the eyedropper, amazed at the utter perfection with which each bead breaks the awaiting meniscus. You record the seconds it takes for the water to resume its placid surface.
The hushed morning after the snowstorm, you sleep upstairs. The ground glitters with diamond dust, the only sound the tinkle of flakes falling. I pick up my cello and play to find the space in between.
16
favs |
2763 views
34 comments |
211 words
All rights reserved. |
Inspired by the 52/250 theme: silence.
And for all the moments in between.
Happy holidays. Peace...
Life is big and beautiful, deadly and sad, joyful, peaceful, mysteriously silent in the brief moments between bullets and musical notes. How well you've captured this enigma.
Loved this at the 52/250, and love it here! *
A gorgeous suite. And you saved the best for last, too! *****
Enjoyed this, Linda. Great closing. Really the music at the end.
...should be really like the music...
James, thanks so much for the very kind words -- this was very much an experimental piece, and it thrills me that it resonated with you. Peace...
Kim, thank you for reading and draping with a jewel! Peace...
Jack, so pleased the ending movement pleased you! Thank you, and peace...
Sam, thank you, I always appreciate the time and care you take with my stories. Peace...
Love the lacunae structure here. My favorite paragraph is the science project.
Great last line.
Each paragraph is a gem!
I loved this one.
I loved this one.
I loved this one.
Love the music in between snowflakes.
This piece has such quiet beauty and unbearable sadness.
Ooooh-- that's when I'm all feeling and no words.
BIG *
@Bill Y, I love it when you use big words - lacunae!
@Matt, thank you for reading!
@ Bill L, thank you for liking 3 times!
@ kari -- thank you for reading!
@Martha, 'music between snowflakes' -- love this comment. Thank you!
@Susan, thank you for the 'oooh' and the pretty star ;^)
Peace!
lovely meditation.
Very happy to have found this via the Monday chat with Susan. It really is both beautiful and hard.*
I am a huge fan of any of Linda's work. This piece in particular, just took my breath away, made my heart stop! I'm so honored that we are going to re-print in Thunderclap Spring 2011.
A great interview this morning with Susan Tepper, also. Fantastic, deep, rich material from you both.
I'm with Bill Lantry here, Linda, loving this thrice. And terrific interview as well! *
Beautiful writing.
'the only sound the tinkle of flakes falling'
I can hear cello strings vibrating.
this is a glorious wonder..it sings with joy a fine write
Somehow I missed this last December. Glad I read your interview. You reach a high note with this.
Your work is astounding me. The images here, the language - so delicate, beautiful, and profound. *
It's good to see this again .. in here. The first time I read it, was blown away by this, "The surgeon reaches into my abdomen and your head crowns, waxed with blood."
Linda, Each section stands so easily on its own. A meditation in a meditation.
Ah, yes. This is wonderful, Linda. Truly, wonderful.
Years ago, I was recording in a studio in Hannover and heard a cello solo in my head for the song I was working on. We hired a fine player and after she had recorded her tracks, I wanted to mute all of the others and simply listen to the cello hum and sing all on its own.
Lovely. *
Thanks for reading and faving, Beate! This is one of my favorites from last year. Peace...
Missed this one back then. Love seeing it and reading it here...
Really good stuff, Linda.
*
I know I'm late to the table here. Like 2 years. I wasn't even on Fictionaut when you posted this. But I figured if 1219 other people have already read it I'd better see what all the fuss is about. Now I know. What a piece! Sublime meditation on the theme of silence. Especially when contemplated by observing the contrast of its opposite. The form and structure, all of it, really works. So sorry I missed 52/250. It seems to have inspired some really rich work. *