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Rated: · Short Story · Other · #1634679
Music is life. (There's also an alternative, comedic ending... But I'm less sure of it.)
The notes wafted through the air, swirling about the grand room’s sole occupant. It was magical the way the sounds drifted with a purpose, with a secret. At some times it was all he could do to keep from becoming entranced as he listened intently. Beats became life, the melody became his dream. Music, he thought, must truly be the meaning of existence.

He closed his eyes, giving it permission to invade his being so well as it may choose. His lids fluttered slightly as a tingling sensation came over every part of him. The music carried his mind to another world as his body and soul fused with the song. Shivers traveled down his spine and up his legs until he could feel every part of himself; each piece reached out to grasp and be a part of the song, to be a part of this world.

It was whole, and it was powerful, and then all of a sudden it changed. Rather than hearing the entire song he would only hear the bass, and then the guitar, and then it would be another sound entirely. Each piece was separately beautiful; each sound only served to enhance the other. Finally it all shifted back into the grander picture, consuming him from the inside.

Empty chairs gathered cobwebs instead of crowds. It was a pity, he thought, that they should miss his symphony. And though he longed for the company of another to share the experience with, there was just something about being an audience of one that made it all the more special.

His soul was ablaze and he began to give in to the seductive voices that urged him to partake in a bit of a dance. The music gathered around him, his voice finally finding the courage to belt out the words that had so ensnared him. The music took over his entire being and he could imagine no truer purpose in life than to sing and dance.

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