The Timing Of Silence (A short ture story)

                                                            The Timing Of Silence

One night as i wondered through the streets of Prague over the
bridge passed its
watchers and wisher , through the alley ways and windings , across the
cobbles and under the arches where few steps are heard this hour .Only
the mist hanging low in the cold air stirred around my feet as i walked
,
the cold biting my fingers through to the bone, my frozen breath
melting into the air , the dead silence in the age old city i hear not
a whisper no sound at all ,no sound at all , in this moment there is
a romance with silence like i had never know , to break it a sin to
leave in it no sound or mark a shame ,

But what sound to make ,what noise in this din could match the
sound that is not but can be heard so loud in the heart, I took my flute from my satchel and pieced it together slowly ,

I stood a while contemplating a tune ,i thought perhaps that of Irish note born from
me with softer tone would like this silence ,

under the broad white arches leading into old town square i placed the flute to my lips , breathing through it to
warm up the wood and find my breath in the
cold air , beneath the clock that has been measuring time since before any time i had known i began to play 

The first note flowing into the next ,deep and low the sound
traveling down the cold narrow alleyways and side streets , the
acoustic carrying it far into the depth of the city ,melting 
the very walls that trapped it within there shadows, breathing life into the sleeping streets,

as the warm breath flowed from my lungs and filled the
flute the tone seemed effortless ,with ease i pushed out sounds and
tones that id never heard my self practice or play , my heart was
filling up with emotions and light so powerful it drove tear's from my eyes

I stopped and listened hard into the dark icy night catching
the sound coming back across the square i could hardly believe its
clarity sweeping along the ancient dimly lit streets like
a calling of angles.
As if being answered by my own music i began to
play over the echoing sound harmonizing the music together creating a
duet
matching note for note lifting the tune by adding higher pitches whilst
keeping time with myself , they lowering the tone to match the higher
pitched echos coming back  , few words can describe what i felt in that
moment as i played with the silence   

through the enveloping sounds of my music i heard softly approaching footsteps someway off in the
distance , two people walking slowly through the city a couple arm in arm , from the
corner of my eye i caught them as they strolled the square under the
arches , my eyes remained closed though i knew they had stopped
in front of me ,they did not speak to me or disturb me they just
stopped and stood listening ,
i know it was myself that was enjoying that moment more than them
though they would have heard my first note same
as my last , i can only imagine how romantic it would have been for
them as they walked through those cobbled windings to be waltzed by
such clarity of sound in such a wonderland 

tears of joy streaming down my face with no
explaining pains , bearing a smile that made playing the notes
difficult, i was feeling was more than i could show while
playing yet i couldn’t stop .

there gift was the romance of the moment for when i opened my
eyes they were both of them also in tears, softly smiling as if they
knew with awareness that this wasn’t just any moment they had happened
upon,  

he stood tall leaning into her close keeping them warm , i could see
on his face that there was a look of a man at peace as content with
his heart as i was with mine . a slight tear ran into her smile as her
eyes welled with a joyful sense of perfection and appreciation of the
night that was being etched into her mind forever .
when i stopped playing i placed
the tip of the flute to my chin and bowed my head and closed my eyes saying not a word to spoil the remaining echo ,

a busker and a
pauper i have been ,walked with the damned and strolled with royals
shared tea with famous sort and have bore witness to glorious talents
of many a hero but never had i felt so humbled by life , that through
me came such wonder in music and in such manner that it will forever
ring in my ears and should i bend my mind to think on the memories, that
the cold would still bite my fingers the frozen air still catch
my breath ,

the sound i believe is still echoing faintly through
those streets , though is now the music for the statues and
gargoyles for the theaters and for the dreams of the artists who
listen hard enough

there are three people i know who witnessed that night  ,two of them walked off into the mist that night heading in the
direction of Charles bridge who they are or where they went that i may never know , i do know
that they will never forget that night i also know that they took from it
a little part of me with them 

so never shall i forget the time i felt was
enough for all my time .          

BY J.ODEA 2009