and then silence.

Listening to: Longer by Dan Fogelberg

Lyric love: "Longer than there've been fishes in the ocean

                  Higher than any bird ever flew

                  Longer than there've been stars up in the heavens

                  I've been in love with you

                  Stronger than any mountain cathedral

                  Truer than any tree ever grew

                  Deeper than any forest primeval

                  I am in love with you."

Fuchsia. Red. Crimson. Burgundy. And then silence.
The crowds applauded then, a thunder, and then a fragile noise that crackled on and on. Faint whistles sounded and circled around me. The lights shone, smeared and bright and floating, broken reflections on the floor. The stage was mine. I could stay this way forever, I could. I shifted on the chair, rubbed my shoes on the wooden floor. And I felt grass beneath my feet.

And then this stage began to flake away, shavings of stage and curtains circling in the breeze until they were naught but leaves scattered at my feet. I opened my eyes, still hearing applause. And the leaves still clapped and the wind still whistled, and the sun was smeared and broken along the ground. The branches still waved. I shifted on the fallen tree, fingered the strings and kept playing until I could no longer feel my fingers.

In Christ,
Suzanne