The eyes of eons. [Slow Editing]

Chapter 16

     The rest of the Saturday I’ve spent in bed getting in and out of my nap. At dinner time Alex woke me up, he was dressed nicely and smelled pleasantly of cologne. 

     He caressed my hair alarming my consciousness. “Alex, you need to eat something.”

     “Hm?” I murmured through doze.

     “I brought you some soup. It’s in the kitchen.”

     “Are you leaving?”

     “Yes, I’m going out. Have some soup and get back to bed,” he said walking in the direction of the door.

     “Okay.” I agreed calmly watching him. 

      In a moment I’ve heard the front door click and only then pulled myself together and stood up heading to the kitchen.

     The soup was in a plastic bucket, the one like from a fancy restaurants. I hit up some bullion in a small dish and sat down in front of the TV. Out of boredom I turned it on and fixed my stare at the screen. The Saturday specials were mostly some big popular shows. I flipped through several channels, and all of them seemed the same. Then I found the news. They were reporting some shooting in a high school again. I shook my head in disbelieve listening to the reporter and with a sigh turned the TV off deciding to finish my soup in silence. 

     

      I washed the dishes and leaned on the kitchen counter thinking. I was lost and confused and needed an advice. In my head was playing the song “The man I love” and almost robotically like with a magnet it drew me to the shoebox.  I grabbed the box from my desk and brought it back into the living room. I pulled Franz Liszt - it all begin with him...on the ball. It was the first time when I let the music in my heart. Swiftly I jammed the disk into the stereo system and held my breath. The tender composition opened the performance and walking backwards I took the armchair. The first melody slowly transformed into the second, even softer tune, and then to the third. I was waiting for the moment of my transition from the reality, and the melody was over and I was still in the room. Maybe I’ve misunderstood the consequence...I withdrew the CD and switched it with “The Nutcracker”. 

     I finished listening to both parts of the ballet. Then I switched to Debussy, then to Strauss, and marked to myself that I’ve already heard those melodies before. Then I played Schubert and all the composers I haven’t touched yet. The living room stayed where it was and I remained where I was. 

     Upset and puzzled I packet the discs back into the shoebox and brought it back to my room - was all of it only my imagination or I was doing something wrong? 

     Lazily I grabbed my e-book and stretched on the bed. The sentences were jumping up and down in front of me. I couldn’t focus my eyes even on one word. My mind was constantly reflecting on the phenomenon of the music. What was the trick? Maybe I needed to go back to the very beginning and where was the very beginning?...My eyes rounded and I jumped on my legs. Of course...Chopin, it was Agnes’s favorite composer and probably mine, too. Feverishly I searched through the covers and when found Chopin, I drag the disk out of the row and breakneck headed to the living room to play it.

     From the first notes an unmeasurable joy spread around me letting me to dive into the melody in full. Home, it reminded me home and hidden in the forest Kowalsky’s house. I was dreaming about fall in Vermont, colorful: red, golden, yellow, orange fall. Fall with early fireplace burning, and smell of firewood from the chimney. Fall with homemade hot chocolate and apple pie. I was thinking of my big blue and white hundred years old house with garden, barn in the yard, and my swings that hang off a big oak. I was thinking about my beloved places and felt like dancing, spinning in the wind, being tossed and tumbled by its might. I closed my eyes and grinned feeling my whole body swaying from one side to another and then the real wind blew into my face, cool piercing wind.