Saturday, March 26, 2011


Author's note : Please  listen to this, while you read. Thanks

The moonlight is pale. The stage seems set. The air is an ethereal blue. The river is still, its' waters flow soundlessly beneath the tranquil surface. The blue-black sky and the moon's waning crescent paint monochrome reflections on the water. A character appears on the scene, the act for tonight is 'The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy'. Another character materializes from the underbrush and sets a device on the river's rocky bank. Strains of Tchaikovsky's divine composition begin to float weightlessly on the paper-thin air; music becomes airborne. The notes are falling relentlessly into their minds like rain; the cue has arrived. Both men shed their clothing and dive into the river head first.

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