September 5th

Chapter 7

10 years later. Vienna, Austria.

I walked around the city waiting for the start of a classical music concert. The weather was in all its splendor: the blue sky of such a brightly saturated color that hurt the eyes, the warm breeze drove away all the clouds, and the leaves were full of the most juicy shades of red, orange, gold and light green.

I walked past the sights, took beautiful photographs, which often were included children with happy smiles on their faces. It was causing a pleasant warmth in my heart.

The water from the fountain reflected sunlight and, with its splashes, created an indescribable play of sunlight on water droplets. I walked until the sun began to tilt to the west, scorching the city in crimson and opal colors.

The concert hall personified luxury and splendor: grandiose crystal chandeliers illuminated it from all sides, making it sink in gilding and mahogany, velvet seats were scarlet, and the skillful carving and stucco that adorned the balconies went under the ceiling, which was depicted portraits with historical figures.

I took my place in the front rows, feeling some secret enthusiasm. I was overwhelmed with many mixed emotions: fear, veiled under the excitement of anticipation of a concert; a thrill, thin as lace, which was gripping my heart with impatience; anxiety, that was ringing a weak bell somewhere in the depths of my consciousness, but overlapping with delight. I'm finally here. Finally, I will hear his music.

The chandeliers had muffled their radiance, giving way to lighting only the main stage, on which only the grand piano stood alone. The composer appeared from behind the curtains, causing a scale of applause in the crowded hall. At that moment, I thought that my heart would burst out of my chest, leaving only a bleeding gaping wound, it was beat so hard, giving a loud rumble in my ears.

The pianist walked his way to the piano and bowed awkwardly to the crowd. The fact that the hall was darkened favorably contributed to his musical mood, because, as it was before, he didn't like a large crowd of people.

Then he sat down at the piano, and everyone held their breath. The first chord sounded from under his fingers, and then music poured, filling the entire space in the concert hall. Magical, mesmerizing melodies with their fast and slow transitions, then increasing and decreasing in sound and changing tonalities. The music painted pictures in my mind, as once upon a time when I heard it for the first time.

My once wounded soul and bleeding heart have found harmony thanks to this music. Like a medicine it was spreading throughout my being, healing wounds, painting the world in bright colors, opening doors for me that were previously locked.

There were many various music masterpieces: some melodies were returning me to the stormy ocean, others dipped me into the mirror-like surface of the lake, caressed with a breath of fresh breeze, tickled my nose with emerald grass, forced me to feel a jump from a steep cliff into a deep abyss, as I was like picked up by a gust of immense wind. Other compositions brought blissful peace, as if I was wrapped in a warm blanket, warming from the inside and giving a feeling of security.

And only one of them I unmistakably recognized. Light as a feather. Delicate like a velvet cherry petal. Affectionate, like the touch of a sunbeam. And sad, like a snowflake, falling from heaven and immediately melting in a warm human palm. The music was associated with the end of summer and the approach of autumn, but gave hope that in someone's heart, covered by a blizzard, the sun would always penetrate through the shroud. As if it was pouring warm light with its scattered rays, helping to tear out of the captivity of cold and despair, giving rise to hope like a small sprout, came up from the ground.

The sonata, called "September 5th", was the pearl of the entire concert, the most famous and most anticipated by all guests, which brought the composer his current popularity and fame.