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    The tall, lanky, dark-haired boy strolled along the sidewalk, adjusting his large black glasses against his nose. He walked past shops and cafes, glancing at people passing by him, glancing up at the clear, blue afternoon London sky. He continued his leisurely stroll, listening to the roaring sound of the passing vehicles, overhearing people’s conservations, and focusing on the warm wind rushing through the leaves of the nearby trees. The boy closed his eyes, absorbing the sounds and smells of his surroundings, breathing in the familiar scents of this pleasant summer afternoon. He gradually slowed his pace, allowing his body to full immerse itself and bask in the brilliant, warm glow of the soft afternoon sun. His mind remained completely clear; devoid of any stress, anxieties, distress; devoid of any pessimistic notion. A mind as open and fresh as the air around him; a mind lax and calm.
    The boy lethargically continued his stroll through the quaint London town, admiring the simplicity of the buildings and the care-fare attitude of the town’s inhabitants. A smile crept across his face as a small shiba inu approached him, panting heavily in the summer heat. The dog quickly ran by him, jumping into his owner’s arms. The boy walked a short distance farther, until his ears perked up to the faint sound of piano playing. He stopped in his tracks, his ears greatly straining to detect the source of the music. His ears led him to believe the music was being produced from inside a small café nearby and he quickly strode over. He found himself in front of a small French café and opened the door, revealing a mostly empty space. At first glance, the café consisted of a few small scattered chairs, chipped tables, a couple of focused students writing notes, withered plants, and a vacant counter. The boy stepped inside, the sound of the piano becoming more audible. He began to wander around, seeking out a piano in this somewhat shabby joint. He walked passed the tables, passed the students, passed the counter, and then turned a sharp corner, revealing a small, open room. Inside of the room lay a grand piano; a black, sleek piano so polished the boy could see his own piercing blue eyes starting back at him. Large windows encompassed the room, beams of light passing through them, illuminating the motes of dust floating effortlessly around the room. The boy’s eyes eventually wandered to the player of the piano; a boy roughly is age, with dark chestnut-colored hair and contrasting pale skin. The piano player’s eyes were closed, his long, delicate fingers gliding smoothly across the black and white keys, his body swaying along with the music. He was completely lost in the music; a state beyond focus. It was a transformation of music into something ethereal, something utterly unexplainable. The boy became entranced not only by the beautiful music, but by the way the player’s body contracted and the way his fingers danced so gracefully across the keys, light as air. The boy leaned against the wall, sensations of warmth and admiration surging through him. The piano player’s music gradually became quieter and his fingers gradually lost speed, still maintaining elegance and grace. He played his last notes, his fingers gently lifting into the air, his body and head lifting upward, his eyes still closed. The last notes resonated and rang throughout the air, the music seemingly lifting up into the heavens. The player allowed for a short moment of complete silence before opening his eyes and slowly turning his head towards the boy. His almond eyes met the boy’s striking blue eyes, the warmth of the brown drowning in the intensity of the blue. Their eyes locked and time itself seemed to stop. Seconds felt like decades, minutes like centuries. The world outside of them seemed distant, as though in this moment they were the only two beings in existence. Though the surroundings were silent, an intimate song lay in the hearts of the boys, a song only they could hear. Behind the intensity of the boy’s blue eyes, lay the warmth of his soul and behind the warmth of the player’s brown eyes lay the intensity of his music. They continued to stare, their eyes intensely drawn to one another, searching for some past memory of the other, perhaps something from a past life. And in that moment, as their eyes searched for the depths of their souls, they knew that this summer was the beginning of a long and beautiful journey they would share together

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chainsaw-chicken
Faith
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
writing and stuff
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