To Drown In The Melodies

Keira played the strings of her banjo, the low notes disappearing in the chaos of the street crowd. She sat on a stool on the sidewalk, her hat sitting upturned beside her. Empty.

She had no worries though. The morning was still grey. People would come. They would listen. Eventually.

She tried to remember why she loved playing. She dug for the reason she had fallen in love with music. She tried to pull it out, to play it into her songs. All Kiera had to do was immerse herself. To drown herself so deep, people would fall into the lull of her music. Then why-?

The music shifted sour again. Kiera pulled herself together and concentrated.

Music. It was her favorite thing. It was what came to her naturally and easier than anything else ever did. She had abandoned everything for music and she would do it again.

Wouldn’t she?

She looked at her hat. There was a coin.

Her heart leaped. It would start with one coin, then go on to be two, and then she would soon have enough money to buy a palace! Why, she could do anything if she had her dear banjo!

She played a merry tune next. Short, clipped notes and then fast beats. She imagined an orchestra behind her, giving llife to her tunes and an audience before the stage. Then herself, in the spotlight, sitting on a beautiful carpet with delicate grace, playing songs people could loose themselves in. They would walk out of the place dazed as though they had seen a galaxy and would call her the ‘Master of music’. Kiera finished with a flourish, the sound reverberating in the empty afternoon heat.

She glanced at the hat. She didn’t play to earn. That was insulting. It was offensive to the art. But it also gave her confidence. That someone was listening. That someone had recognized the beauty of what she had done. That someone had seen.

There was one coin. No more no less. Nothing had changed. Her heart sunk. She let it flow into her next song. It wasn’t like anybody was there to listen anyway.

She played fast and furious. Tense music teetered into sorrow and frustration. She scrunched her eyes and plucked at the strings and then something delicate came over her. She didn’t stop to question it. She broke into a calm and natural melody, hands moving smoothly along the sleek wood, feeling. Her heart unearthed a little. Her mind felt at peace. So this is why she fell in love with music. Kiera went up the crescendo and pulled it undone.

“You wrote that?”

Kiera started and cracked open her eyes. An awestuck man who looked like he was in his mid-thirties was waiting for an answer. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat, a steady hope rising within her.

“Ah yes, I did. Just now.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is your age?”

Age? Kiera was a little wary but answered anyhow. The man looked trustworthy enough.

“I’m fourteen.”

The man jumped and whooped. Kiera reeled back frem the sudden movement but the maan calmed down just as quickly to placate her.

“You seem to have good talent for music at such a young age miss.” The man pulled out a white business card and handed it to her. “I have an offer for you in the Winter theatre, if you’re interested?”

She couldn’t believe it. Was her dream truly coming true? Was this a dream?

She felt the card and checked it for false information. There seemed to be none. It looked genuine. Excitement and disbelief rose within her.

“Do you mean it?”

The man gave her a hearty laugh. “Of course I do!”

She looked at her hat. There were two coins. She laughed with all the happiness in the world.

“When can I come to practice?”