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The Violin

Nobody knows if this was once upon a time, but I'm sure the character does. Anyhow, there sat a blind child on his front porch. His violin reverberated through the Mystery and collided color into all the plants and Earth. He liked to pretend he was playing right in the middle of a grand symphony playing to the tune of "Na na na na." This was all he had, and all he wanted--to make whatever peace or quiet he wanted. He never saw the ocean that dwelled so unbearably near, nor did he live long enough for anyone with enough care to tell him of its wonders and tales.
All that got him through each island day was his positive thinking, and memory that told him to be the Mystery itself--no policeman, teacher, or even people who love each other know what a single thing really is. So he sat and played. When people asked him what he was doing he simply replied "Why don't we talk to the universe together? Why can't we?" Before he had grown he would ask "Is it you?"
However happy he was making his own peace, he dearly wished he could go and see more. He wanted to go do something in life, and so he left the island after years of waiting. This time he was on a street when a figure walked up and gave him room and board. Now, there was a single other existence who talked to him through music. She would only tell him what she was, and he was to call her by this name only.
Instructor, Instructor. She would play music and teach the boy the world in new ways. "This tune meant blue, and the other green, like this," as she would glide his hand over a surface "And this here--that's a table." She would spell things in the most beautiful musical notes.
"Young Boy, there is a lesson I will one day teach you. It will be more important than anything combined." Boy's face lit up with need to pass the days. That night he finally slept well.

"Hi there!"
"Is it you? Is it already Tuesday?"
"Yes, it's me. Listen, I have to leave for something very important. Not more important than you, but you know. It's my time to leave--remember, we discussed this."
"Will I ever see you again?"
"Follow the Mystery, and one day we will surely see each other."
"See? But how, you know I cannot!" as the little boy sat, weeping. A violin was placed in his hands, and She was gone.

The morning he awoke from that dream he was 18. It was time for him to leave. His final lesson never came. All Instructor said as Boy departed was "Listen, and you shall find me again."
In his new apartment he kept thinking 'Find?' What... did he FIND? What drove him to keep playing music? He put the violin down, and didn't go back to it for many more years.
There sat a blind man on his chair. His violin no longer reverberated with all the life the world had to offer. It could lose all its color for all he cared.
i said he didn't go back to it for many years. What made him go back at the ripe age of 23? A bird with a broken wing one day appeared on his windowsill. It couldn't fly, and the outdoor ledge didn't give it much room to walk, so it sang. This was no ordinary singing. It sounded of the most amazing violin he had ever heard. "Listen, and you shall find me again."
He opened the window and picked up the bird. He followed the music, violin against chest, as the bird happily stood upon his gliding hand. The winds carried the music for days until the winds stopped inside a house.
"Boy, come sit down... Listen as I play. Tell me what you hear."
He didn't understand. She was Beethoven with a Stringed.
As she played, he held his palm against the bottom of her instrument. Then, Instructor began to speak:
"Listen, and see. A girl leaves a friend and a homeland. Why did it have to happen to her and him? It should have never been. It took too many years for song to grant the dreams it gave this girl since she was young and away. About to go back, and face the world as it was, her carriage got stuck in the mud. Walking home alone would have caused too much arousal in her leave. Now, it's time for my regret to disappear."

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I crave all opinions!! Whoo I almost fell asleep. I'll add everything else when I get back from surgery.

Copyright 2010 Vladislav Zhirnov