Friday, February 14, 2014

Samatha Redstreake Geary Week 86: Remember Me

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Samantha Redstreake Geary’s Picture Choice: One

Title: Remember Me

*This story was inspired by the music of Michael Maas, a track entitled, “Remember Me”

Happy Valentine’s Day!
WriterlySam


A web of luminous threads pulsate in a riot of vibrant color, a thing of beauty only I can see…

I weave in between the connections, each one a different shade of love, a different song resonating in its core.

The Japanese restaurant is alive with the sounds of a hundred conversations, plates scraping, glasses clinking, laughter and music.

Not the music that trickles from the ceiling, but the songs that spill from their hearts, flowing through the threads that bind them to another, a thing of beauty only I can hear…

In a corner booth, a frustrated mother endures yet another battle of wills, the tangled threads to her children burning the brilliant white of unconditional love. A choir of children’s angelic voices can be heard playing along the web of a families’ deep-rooted affection.

Friends, laughing over sips of plum wine are tied by glistening gold bound by the inviting sounds of a guitar being plucked and pulled to match their lighthearted chatter.

An elderly couple sitting at the bar shares a plate of sushi, their iridescent blue cord humming with the steady wisdom of piano strings and the love of ages.

Young lovers embracing near the window exude a fiery passion that glows in ruby tendrils, licking at their hearts with the intensity of a violin.

Behind the scarlet flames sits a pair I almost miss, the subtle sounds of their heartbeats slipping into silence, the drumming pulse of their connection fading. Like the yellow flower centered between them, the petals of their song have dropped, one by one, until there’s nothing left but the stem--a wilting memory of the music they once shared.

They have forgotten me...

A crackle of energy pulls me to yet, another table. I watch, entranced as my attention is drawn to a new couple meeting for the first time. The girl’s mane of auburn curls bounce in anticipation, her crimson dress matching the flush that floods her cheeks. The handsome young man’s striking cerulean eyes focus on the menu, his leg tapping a nervous rhythm underneath the ebony table.

I edge closer.

Their eyes meet. The man smiles.

The smile steals her breath and swallows her heart whole.

In that instant, a flood of silver sparks erupt between them. The music is deafening. An entire orchestra surging with the flame fiercely burning through their core.

It is a love they shared long ago. They may not remember the lives they once lived, but they remember me.

I am a thing of beauty anyone can see, anyone can hear.

I am Love.

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4 comments:

  1. This is wonderful! Such incredible imagery, so tangible.

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  2. Thank you, Miranda:) Michael's music really brings it to life.

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  3. Beautiful! Love how the voice, from the start, is unique and, somehow, not really human. It all falls into place at the end. Loved it, Sam. Great job!

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  4. Strictly speaking, this is a condition called "synesthesia" and I experience this from time to time, and have all my life, as well as ASMR. I am also a professional violist and at one time, was a software engineer. I practiced both careers at the same time, until I became disabled. I am also bipolar and have Asperger. All of this is prelude to what I am about to say. This is perhaps the finest and certainly the most fluid and lyrical depiction of how sound and music and are "organized" within the human spirit in a way we understand. The truth of the matter is, we can no more easily "understand" clinically the term "love" than we can "music"; it defies description. But we sure do know it when we hear it and feel it, and I heard and felt it here. Brava, Samantha Geary-Jones! Brava!

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