The Siren in the Night

        On a dark night lit by the stars a warmly dressed man found himself walking down the lonely street to the beat of melancholy. He had just witnessed a wonderful Shakespearean play performed by a wonderful cast of wonderful actors and wonderful actresses, but he was only reminded of his own un-wonderful, and boring life. He felt the chill wind brush his cheeks and sweep through his black curls as he set his dull brown eyes on the glimmering stars, standing under a barely glowing lamp post. It was at this moment, that he noticed a shooting star cross through the expansive sky. Usually on such an occasion he wouldn't fall victim to the trivial fancies of the masses, as he would describe it a colleague, but tonight he gave it a shot. It couldn't hurt. He closed his eyes and made a wish. Then upon opening his eyes, he looked down at the ground and laughed to himself, or at himself for making such a wish, and for making a wish at all.

         He kept walking down the empty street, and on the sidewalk littered with leaves. His intent was to return home, where no one would be waiting. But the chill wind blew again, and this time it seemed to carry a melody with it. The man was surprised by this, and a flash of excitement crossed his face before he extinguished it, composing himself as a proper man should, as his father would say. However, he could not quell his curiosity and found himself walking towards it, his mind enchanted by the tune. In fact, he kept on walking, until he had walked past the entrance of the park, a place where families, or friends, maybe even lovers go to during the day to share their happiness. Once he walked past it though, he realized the sound got quieter. He returned to the entrance of the park and realized that that's where the beautiful violin music sounded the loudest. The tune that sounded as lonely as he was, and shared a similar despair but a different one nonetheless, he would come to know, was named Melodie from Orpheus and Eurydice.

        There he stood, in front of the entrance of the park, where black gate disappeared, the tune beckoning him to come closer. The beautiful melodious violin, it's song like a siren urging him to plunge into the depths of the unknown. But something, kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. He dared not take a step, and merely stood. Basking in the song and the story it painted in his mind as he listened. He never was interested in music, or more truthfully he was never exposed to it. His childhood had been ordinary and his adulthood was the same. It wasn't the worst, and he was better off that most, he had no reason to complain, but still did as all do. He had went to concerts before, but there something different this time. There was something about this single violin playing in the middle of the night under the expansive and dark sky, all alone in a park playing for the stars and an audience of one.

          That night was not the only night he had attended these private concerts, in which the performer did not know they were being listened to. The man had made it a part of his routine, to take a midnight stroll and to happen to pass by the park on his way. And perhaps stay for a minute or an hour, to listen to who he deemed his "Siren of the Night" play their violin when the world was asleep. Of course, he knew that this soloist did not play for him, and did not of course know that he was even listening for that matter, but there was a little comfort in believing for a moment that he wasn't alone, in being alone. And perhaps the two shared a mutual loneliness that gave them a form of connection. All the same, whether or not he knew how crazy he sounded in thinking that, the bartender who he made a point of voicing his troubles to, made sure to let him know.

          But there he stood, on another consecutive night of these daily ventures in front of the now very familiar park entrance. How many nights has it been? He had lost count, but he had listened to his Siren for so many hours that he had grown familiar with whenever the violinist would mess up a note, and the music would stop in frustration. But it would always start again, never ending until the piece met it's full completion. He stood there wondering, why is that he never stepped past the entrance? He gathered his courage, and lifted his foot only to put it back down in hesitation, right where it was before, as if he never took a step at all. It was curiosity that drove him, and dread that held him back. Two opposing forces that added to a net force of zero, allowing him to remain motionless standing, staring and listening to the enchanting and haunting music of the Siren's violin. Slowly, as the minutes went by and the tempo changed, which only could signal that his Siren was moving on to a different piece, slowly, his curiosity outgrew his dread, and he was pulled in by the music.

       At first it was a step, which slowly became a few steps, and then quickly it became many steps, as he walked towards the person who played the music that had kept him company for the past few days. Soon, the music became even more vibrant, more beautiful even more enchanting and powerful as he drew nearer. His heart started pounding as he kept walking, closer and closer to where the music was coming from, doing what he didn't have the gall to before. His dread stemmed from the notion, no the belief, that if he really were to let it be known that he was listening to the music, then maybe the music would stop and that he wouldn't be able to listen anymore. And in turn, his fantasy of company, would disappear with it. But now, his curiosity got the better of him.

       And there he stood, at the bottom of the hill within the park, his brown tired eyes full of life gazing up towards the musician who's back was facing him and whose eyes were glued to fingerboard of the violin. "A novice," he thought to himself. Just as he had expected. Yet this musician was ten times more talented and a hundred times more courageous than he could ever hope to be. He watched as the violin player's bow bounce upon the strings, every stroke producing a new note, each coming in strong strides confidently, coming together to form a beautiful piece that was played by one instrument.

       And so the two were, under the cool, starry sky together, standing alone. The man listened as the Siren played their song, almost hoping that the moment wouldn't end. But the piece progressed, as all things do with time. And the emotion in the piece almost brought him to tears. It was the same piece that enchanted him all those nights ago, those seven nights ago, that haunted his brain and lead him here. And within a moment, the darkness in the sky was lifted and the stars faded, and he recognized that the end of the piece was nearing, and his time standing there listening, would soon be over. The man felt the sun's rays hit the Earth and warm the air around him, and watched as the violinist's silhouette was bordered by the beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows of the sunrise, in awe of it as if he was looking at a painting created by only the most skilled artist.

       And so with a flourish the final note was played, and the violinist turned around locking eyes with the man. And at that moment he realized, his wish was granted.