The Evening Cello

His dark eyes followed the movement of the curtains and how they swayed rhythmically in the wind. The breeze was not without force but neither was it as unpleasant as it might have been for some, he quite enjoyed the way his hair whipped about his face like this, it reminded him of hiking in the hillside.

The evening had been a humid one so he had decided against work, instead he took his friends' cello and played the secrets of his heart through the strings, closing his eyes as he drew the bow back and forth and from it came the sweet-sorrow melody that filled the room. The curtains were his metronome.

All of this and the rhythm he played allowed him to forget about who he was and the accompanying responsibility he held, and for the moment- this small amount of time that he had to himself to simply lose himself amongst the music.

He had started playing at sunset, when the light started to dim and scatter the sky with clouds of orange and pink. When the songbirds would retire for the day to be replaced with crickets and other creatures of the night. It was only now as his song drew to a soft end that he opened his eyes and realised that he had played well into the night. The sky through his open balcony was an inky blue littered with small glittering stars, they were a wondrous thing, stars; a celestial body of hot gasses, that emitted energy from their core. Energy in the form of light that travelled through the atmosphere, causing said light to ripple, which was more commonly known as twinkling as it reaches the eye.

Osias turned about the room and surveyed all within it. His furnishings, the totems and mementoes he had collected on his travels, placed about the living space. The flippant laughter from his acquaintances and how relaxed they seemed to be in the comfort of his home. With the stars shining brightly, the night in the prime of it’s youth and the gratification simply playing the instrument had caused, left him feeling attuned to the divine. It had been with ease he had succumbed to melodic resonance. The cello had rung a rhythmical cadence so wholesome that he was certain that such an instrument could not be designed by humans alone. A sound akin to what he could only imagine the music of heaven to be. Fit for celestial ears only.

He was vaguely aware that his company had called him to share the wine but raised his hand and shook his head, silencing the disturbance. He looked to the curtains as though waiting for the cue from his conductor and readied the bow. Might he return to seraphic bliss again.