|mist and memory
Author: Aviendha19 PM
moonlight sonata, the sea, and sadness. Copyright 2002 Lorraine F. P.Rated: Fiction K - English - Drama - Words: 460 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 03-31-02 - id: 694635
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The sea rolled endlessly onto the shore, ceaseless waves crashing the sand and creating a dull, muted roar that seemed to fill all the rooms of the house. The tall, black pine trees were silhouetted against the gray sky that seemed to stretch forever over the ocean, and the waving beach grasses created a soft rushing sound that added to the dank atmosphere. The dark, opulent house that stood on the edge of the sands seemed a part of the gently sloping hills that were layered in gray sand and gentle sea-grass. Inside the house elegant white curtains flowed softly around the gray seascape framed in the window.
Inside this room soft, quiet music could be heard, gently adding to the sea sounds, paying tribute to the dark clouds and gray hills. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, seeming to fill the room like smoke, was brought forth from the piano by expert hands. The first chords sounded softly but with quiet strength, and the ghostly melody following as if being drawn into a sorrowful, neverending dance. The man drew his music from the strings, the wood, the large, glassy-smooth frame with master's precision, pale hands gently creating chords and harmonies with ease. Approaching the ending notes, he sighed and layed his head down on the piano, letting the final chord die away into silence. Reverberations of ocean waves washed over him.
The man slowly raised his head, and after a while stood and left the piano for the open window. He gazed out over the sea with longing and sadness, and sighed once more. With a deep lethargy, he walked over to the door and stood looking off the old porch out over the ocean. The endless muted roar seemed to pound on his ears, and he hastily walked down the steps and out towards the water. When he reached wet sand he turned and began walking, a slow, mechanical stride to journey on forever through the mist-covered shores.
After a while his steps carried him to the edge of the forest, where the tall pine trees brooded over the land, masked in thick fog and seeming monsters in the pale mist. The forest had a deep mossy smell to it, which contrasted somewhat with the briny sea winds that swept the shore. Nevertheless, the man walked deeper into the dark trees, following an overgrown path dotted with green grass and pale, delicate flowers. Those tiny flowers seemed ghosts haunting the forest floor, and he was careful not to crush any with his step.
As he walked on, the forest fog enveloped him with cold breath, and he disappeared into the dark trees. Yet the memory of his music would remain forever . . .