Flowerpot

Canon in D

The crowd quieted, soft murmurs and the odd cough settling slowly into true silence. The theater was dark, no stage lights lit her, and she took that moment to feel all her nerves. She gave her fears and anxiety their moment in the dark, and then shut them away as he began.

First with a few notes, and a light faded in over him, showing their audience the grand piano and his mess of black hair as he hunched over the keys. He blocked out the melody with soft disconnected bars. She could not sit and watch long, his gentle chords were leading her on, and she raised the bow to the strings for the first wailing notes.

A light above her charged up, and she sat straight, her silver hair was illuminated and glowed in the light as she began the melody. He accented with soft notes, little runs up and down, in harmony but in the background. She built and sighed, rode the waves, and when she had nothing left his melody began.

Their fingers danced to each others rhythms, and now it was her turn to take a backseat to his cascading notes. She drew out falling scales as he glided across the keys and then they were together, playing as one.

For a final swell their instruments sang and then her light died. She put her violin on the stand behind her chair with the anonymity of shadows and ventured over to the edge of his pool of light. As the last notes were plucked she moved to sit beside him on the bench, and he had tears on his cheeks as he blocked out the melody one last time.

The music faded from the hall, and the two sat in their little island of illumination. He leaned over and she pressed a kiss to his lips as the light faded and applause began.