A/N: That's something about how a soul can touch another in the most intimate of ways, and then crush it down. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words.
#38 - Touch
My fingers are warm against the cool metal of my saxophone, as I touch it, almost caressing it. It's been awhile since I played. Couple of weeks, maybe more. See, I was fully occupied, and now I'm not. Fortunately or not, I can't tell.
I'm not sure about a lot of things lately. Maybe because everything I knew as standard seems to fall apart and show off a new twisted face. And beside this, my brain is phenomenically unable to process anything. It's like one of its gears has broken up, and all the others are stuck because of it. But no one had the thought to fix it up. And I bet no one could.
My eyes fall to the shining musical instrument once again, and my hands move smoothly upon it. There's a chance that it can help me. Music always did something to me. Cleared things up. It had been a really dear friend from the very beginning. It will be there for me. All I had to decide now was whether I truly wanted to clear things up or not.
Until now, I truly opinioned that people bond with souless objects and not with other human beings just because they were too scared to get hurt, to be touched by another soul, to be human. All those people were simply cowards to my eyes, fearful and kind of pathetic some times.
Now, although, I understand the reason. By loving something lifeless, you are the one to decide when you want to get hurt. In these lines lies the difference, tha may sound silly and childish, but the truth is that we all play hide-and-seek with reality, even if we are considered grown ups. One can abstain seeing a fact big as a hippogrif, and the inanimate won't rub it on your face. It's pretty convenient and reassuring. A lifetime can pass and you can pretend to be blind in anything you want, till the end of it.
However, a human may let you in your convenient peace for a while, but some time, when the comb will reach the brush, he will try to persuade you into facing whatever you are hiding from. The thing is that most of us, in this matter, don't seek the truth. We don't even stand imagining of it, talking of facing it sound absurb. We need the cheap and meaningless lies that the world, others, and mostly ourselves offer us.
Of course, the truth will appear some time, making a stunning entrance to the full theater, as much as we hide it, as much as we ignore it. But now I can tell that I apprehend all those who avoid the living beings and chose to live with the soulless.
Hesitant yet dynamically, I bring the embouchure to my mouth and give the first blow of air through my lips, carefully placing my fingers to the right places. The first note reaches my ears, and as the second and third follow, small weak waves of a known pain hit my body. I continue the pattern of the song and welcome the pain as an old, respected enemy.
A/N: I know, small, but that's why they call it a prompt. Axaxaxax :P I'd like it to larger, but then it would turn into a , review. Thanks for reading. :D
Snitches, ElAmorComienza
