Whiplash written by Don Ellis title stolen by Ken Aurborum Giovanni
Miria hailed from a long line of proud military servicemen and women; that being said, her father, an enlisted man, had fought in the early years of the current conflict while her mother was a doctor at a military hospital (funnily enough, they had met after Miria's father suffered multiple gunshot wounds where Miria's mother pulled out each bit of shrapnel one by one). They had both heard of, seen, and experienced the horrors of war and did everything in their power to steer their child away from such a life.
So when Miria was fourteen, instead of being enrolled into the military academy, she instead attended the local preparatory academy where she made friends, participated in numerous extracurricular activities, and had a experienced what you would call a normal childhood. Miria didn't mind the monotony of course...sometimes she'd find herself in a slump but looking back on it, I don't think she would have changed a thing...afterall...that's where she met her…
Galatea was the daughter of a wealthy business woman and a world renowned classical tenor. Her parents were never less than encouraging and loving towards their daughter, she was never not allowed to do anything or go anywhere because she knew the difference between right and wrong, she was mild mannered and well behaved, and she was always home by ten at the latest. She played the violin like she traded her soul to the devil and sang like an angel who had a broken heart. Galatea was nearly seventeen (finishing up her third year in high school) and had been accepted at the most prestigious conservatory of music in the country where she planned to attend after finishing her secondary school. She spoke perfect French (which her mother insisted she learn) and was barely fluent in Japanese (which was taught to her by her father, informally); but the Galatea no one knew was a little risque, extremely sarcastic, could drink anyone under the table, was a bona fide hoonigan, and had a burning penchant for jazz (much to the chagrin of her classically trained father).
Much to Miria's dismay, Galatea was her first and only love, and how she fell for her...hard and fast...like that one Don Ellis tune…
Miria walked into the classroom listed on her schedule, not knowing nor caring what class it was at the moment. She simply wanted her first day of school to pass like the flash in a pan. Unfortunately for her, time seemed to be going slower, seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, and hours to eons. That is...until she walked through the door. Just like in the movies, time slowed and Miria saw every strand of waist-length trail like a dress in a spring breeze. Her chest seemed to swell and shrink at the same time, her heart wanted to jump up her throat, and her eyes saw nothing but the extraordinary girl in an ordinary school uniform.
As every action in the world has an equal and opposite reaction, time sped before Miria's eyes. The bell had rung without her notice, there were words on the blackboard that weren't there a second ago, and textbooks had been issued. The girl who stole her heart without saying a word or even acknowledging her presence left in a flash along with everyone in the classroom., leaving Miria to contemplate the bizarre events that transpired within the last hour.
Galatea on the other hand was quite pleased that class went normally, no one noticed her (or that's what she thought at least), no one bugged her for school supplies, there were no cat calls when she walked in, and her history of music class seemed to be taught by a kind and knowledgeable teacher. That being said, she would rather be creating music than studying its history (which for the most part she was very well schooled in), so she left in a hurry to the small recital room where she could spend her free period whiling away on the baby grand piano in a room with beautiful acoustics.
Miria was knocked back into lucidity by a playful smack upside the head.
"Yo, Miria!" Said a girl about Miria's age with very short blonde hair.
"Hey! what was that for!? You jerk!" Miria replied, clearly furious.
"You saw her didn't you…" Deneve smiled mischievously.
"Saw who?" Miria said, her face starting to flush.
"Ha! Totally gave it away!" Deneve said, repeatedly poking Miria on the cheek, "You totally fell, I could tell!"
Miria swatted Deneve's hand away, "You know, when I first told you I liked girls I was hoping for a little more moral support and acceptance,"
"I AM supporting you! You should totally go for it! My god she was beautiful!" Deneve pushed Miria out of her seat and took her spot, "You should get going, you might miss her,"
"What makes you think she even swings that way?" Miria said as she swung her backpack around her shoulder, slightly flushed and flustered.
"What makes you think she doesn't?"
It was a Saturday afternoon during the summer, heat bearing down on Miria's back offset by a light breeze. It was her day off and she couldn't imagine a better way to spend it than doing yardwork wearing jeans and a sports bra. There was a certain fulfilling bliss to weekend yard work and domestic duties something that was lacking on the battlefield.
Miria raised the axe and brought it down with force, splitting the chunk of wood in half. Miria picked up on of the halves and split it once more to make quarters. She'd been at this for hours, surely she was nearly done?
Sure enough when she turned around to grab another chunk of wood there was none left in the stack. Miria sighed and stretched, bringing her arms all the way above her head and slowly back down. She took the towel that was draped on top of the nearby work table and wipe the sweat from her head and neck. She walked back towards the house enjoying how the grass seems to roll with the wind, almost like a green ocean, perpetually in motion. As she got closer to the house her attention was redirected from the grass to something infinitely more interesting. She could see Galatea through the wide open kitchen window, wearing an apron and blasting indie rock from the speaker dock.
Miria laughed to herself and resumed her walk towards the front door.
Miria panted heavily, arms held behind her head to maximize airflow. She sat herself down on the grass and removed her cleats and her socks, examining the newly formed blisters on her toes. They were going to take time break in before she can wear them without penalty. She slipped her socks back on and retrieved a pair of sandals from her gym bag. Miria pushed herself back up onto her feet and gingerly slipped them on, hating how each step sent a shock shooting up her leg. "Better to break them in now rather than waiting till game day," Miria thought to herself.
It was a long day, there was no doubt about that, Miria wanted nothing more than to go home, take a shower, and knock out; but walking down the halls she heard something quite out of place.
It was the samba swing of bossa nova on a piano…
Miria quietly walked towards the open door and decided to take a peek inside. The recital room was a small hall with a raised platform in the center and 360 degree sloped seating, theatre style. Sitting on the piano bench, hammering out an absolutely mystifying rendition of the old standard "Regra Tres" was a girl with waist length, platinum blond hair. Miria couldn't tell much more because the girl playing the piano had her back facing Miria.
Miria soundlessly crept into the room and took a seat nearest the back wall. She gently placed her gym bag on the floor and relaxed. It was rather unbelievable. Hearing her favorite music played right in front of her by an actual person, not a recording but a flesh and bone human being, who at any moment can change the tempo, or the embellishments, or make a mistake.
Then suddenly the playing stopped…
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sat in like this...It was just that you seemed so into it and you were playing one of my favorite songs and it was absolutely amazing and I just go lost and...well…" Miria plowed through her thoughts with no regards for pauses.
The girl on the piano stood up and turned around to face Miria, "Galatea, my name is Galatea," she said.
It was at that moment, something clicked in Miria's head. This girl was something else...