The Flautist. Part Four
Michelle was strolling through the streets of a charming Swiss town. Vicosoprano, not far from the Italian border, was just a speck on the map, something that cars on the Milan-Saint Moritz route passed at full speed. The drivers were unaware of the beauty and peculiar atmosphere of this town. It consisted of just a few houses but had a central square, a main church and a grand shop. There was a hotel and a courthouse with a tower. Today it is a museum, but 400 years ago it witnessed the madness of the witch trials. A lot has changed since then.
Michelle spotted a 16th-century mural depicting a woman playing the lute and thought it was time to go back. As she approached the door, she heard Kate playing. The window was open, and Michelle sat down on the bench with a pang of guilt and listened.
What was that thing? The lonely E minor chord played on open strings, lacking the touch of Kate's fingers. And then the melody of the introduction, with three staccato chords - three arrows to pierce Michelle's heart.
The arpeggiated chords that followed, famous for their rhythmic variety, took Michelle by surprise. The solo guitar sounded like a full orchestra. How come? It was just the guitar part! With each repetition of the phrase, Michelle tried to unravel the mystery.
That was it . . . it had to be! Kate made the bass notes sound like a cello line, with the remaining elements of the chord acting as counterpoint.
Kate continued to fool Michelle's ears with the first verse. Again it was just the guitar part, nothing else, but somehow she made the arpeggios sing. The vocal line was clearly audible, accompanied by the guitar . . . and the bass!
So close, no matter how far . . .
Michelle was afraid to breathe, afraid to move.
. . . couldn't be much more from the heart . . .
Kate made her guitar sing the song of trust and mutuality.
Trust I seek and find in you . . .
Michelle's lips said it voicelessly: and nothing else matters.
Kate built up the chorus, her guitar never sounded so powerful . . .
The lead went higher and higher. A few notes, just a few fragile notes, how did she do it? She had everything, all the sounds of the strings and the oboe.
. . . Never opened myself this way . . .
Oh, Kate, so true, you have never opened yourself. Never - ever. Michelle sighed, accompanied by the outro. So soft, so calm, so gentle.
"Life is ours, we live it our way," echoed through Michelle's head. She composed herself and started to climb the stairs.
She was about to enter the room when it struck her. Something was missing from the song. What was it? Was it important? How was it important? Michelle sat down on the window-sill and replayed Kate's version in her mind.
That was it.
The solo was missing.
Somehow Kate had managed to hide it, she had made the song complete without it. But that solo was there for a reason. How could she leave it out? Well, she played it beautifully anyway . . . and nothing else matters.
***
As Michelle entered the room, Kate was apparently starting to change, her clothes laid out on the bed. She was standing at the table, eating a peach. The blonde was wearing only panties. She bit into the fruit again and the juice ran down her chin, then down her neck, and finally the narrow stream dared to touch her naked breast. Kate tried to keep the bite in her mouth, to stop the juice with her free hand, and only asked Michelle for a napkin with her eyes.
"Dear, oh dear, you're so dirty."
Michelle approached Kate and licked the juice from her neck. Then from her chest.
Kate sighed.
"Stop it," she said in a hesitant voice.
"You want me to stop?"
"I don't want you to stop, oh, I don't . . . we . . . we're going to be late . . . for . . . rehearsal."
"Who's checking the time now?"
Michelle continued her licks and kisses until Kate's knees went weak, her thighs trembled and she fell into Michelle's comforting arms.
"I don't want to go anywhere . . . just to stay with you, Nic."
"Silly old Sam, you are a professional and you will behave like one. And we have all night after the concert tonight."
"I'm going to explore all the hills and valleys of the Bregaglia Valley." Kate put her finger on Michelle's breast and began the journey along the hillside.
"I bet you dare. Now jump in the shower and get ready, we really have to go."
"Yes ma'am."
Michelle spotted a 16th-century mural depicting a woman playing the lute and thought it was time to go back. As she approached the door, she heard Kate playing. The window was open, and Michelle sat down on the bench with a pang of guilt and listened.
What was that thing? The lonely E minor chord played on open strings, lacking the touch of Kate's fingers. And then the melody of the introduction, with three staccato chords - three arrows to pierce Michelle's heart.
The arpeggiated chords that followed, famous for their rhythmic variety, took Michelle by surprise. The solo guitar sounded like a full orchestra. How come? It was just the guitar part! With each repetition of the phrase, Michelle tried to unravel the mystery.
That was it . . . it had to be! Kate made the bass notes sound like a cello line, with the remaining elements of the chord acting as counterpoint.
Kate continued to fool Michelle's ears with the first verse. Again it was just the guitar part, nothing else, but somehow she made the arpeggios sing. The vocal line was clearly audible, accompanied by the guitar . . . and the bass!
So close, no matter how far . . .
Michelle was afraid to breathe, afraid to move.
. . . couldn't be much more from the heart . . .
Kate made her guitar sing the song of trust and mutuality.
Trust I seek and find in you . . .
Michelle's lips said it voicelessly: and nothing else matters.
Kate built up the chorus, her guitar never sounded so powerful . . .
The lead went higher and higher. A few notes, just a few fragile notes, how did she do it? She had everything, all the sounds of the strings and the oboe.
. . . Never opened myself this way . . .
Oh, Kate, so true, you have never opened yourself. Never - ever. Michelle sighed, accompanied by the outro. So soft, so calm, so gentle.
"Life is ours, we live it our way," echoed through Michelle's head. She composed herself and started to climb the stairs.
She was about to enter the room when it struck her. Something was missing from the song. What was it? Was it important? How was it important? Michelle sat down on the window-sill and replayed Kate's version in her mind.
That was it.
The solo was missing.
Somehow Kate had managed to hide it, she had made the song complete without it. But that solo was there for a reason. How could she leave it out? Well, she played it beautifully anyway . . . and nothing else matters.
***
As Michelle entered the room, Kate was apparently starting to change, her clothes laid out on the bed. She was standing at the table, eating a peach. The blonde was wearing only panties. She bit into the fruit again and the juice ran down her chin, then down her neck, and finally the narrow stream dared to touch her naked breast. Kate tried to keep the bite in her mouth, to stop the juice with her free hand, and only asked Michelle for a napkin with her eyes.
"Dear, oh dear, you're so dirty."
Michelle approached Kate and licked the juice from her neck. Then from her chest.
Kate sighed.
"Stop it," she said in a hesitant voice.
"You want me to stop?"
"I don't want you to stop, oh, I don't . . . we . . . we're going to be late . . . for . . . rehearsal."
"Who's checking the time now?"
Michelle continued her licks and kisses until Kate's knees went weak, her thighs trembled and she fell into Michelle's comforting arms.
"I don't want to go anywhere . . . just to stay with you, Nic."
"Silly old Sam, you are a professional and you will behave like one. And we have all night after the concert tonight."
"I'm going to explore all the hills and valleys of the Bregaglia Valley." Kate put her finger on Michelle's breast and began the journey along the hillside.
"I bet you dare. Now jump in the shower and get ready, we really have to go."
"Yes ma'am."
15 天 前
Thank you for taking time to read my story
The counterpoints, the arpeggios, mixed among the “fragile” notes. And then… the drizzle of the peach. Between the rolling hills and down… to the sunny valley below.
Oh, and those hints of Metallica, lol.