Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search
 




Average Rating
10

(1 votes)


RatingRated by
10PamHKyle

You must login to vote

The lights go down and I feel bodies press anxiously
against my own. No sweat has started pouring but I know
it's gonna come. I pull myself into a personal bubble and
try to snuggle up the the stage as best I can. The drunk
girl next to me is offering one of the roadies a beer and
I see him roll his eyes at her and just laugh. She's
cussing up a storm when the blonde-haired hero takes the
stage. Silent reverence captures us all (though the drunk still can't stop bitching about the roadie laughing at her).

Now it's just my hero, the audience, and an acoustic guitar for the next hour and a half. His voice purrs the opening number and his hands caress the glowing neck of the guitar. I can't believe I'm not on drugs because I swear my legs are shaking and my heart has left my body to go out partying. I have nothing in my mouth but the all the parched songs he wrote in a heroin induced fit almost a decade ago. And I sing, almost. My voice is hoarse and raspy like the cocaine-addicted women he kept time with and then escaped. But I am smiling in a way that they never did, and he is singing with the same smile. The radiant, opulent glow of someone who raced Trouble on the highway and passed that bastard up. That thought runs through my head and all of a sudden my heart is back in my chest and I laugh. A sweaty body pushes into me from behind and I just shake my head then redirect my attention to the stupid guy with the short blonde hair. You know, the one on stage...

When he's stopped playing the lights go down and every single set of lips in the damned club starts cheering for an encore. He comes back out (he was of course, expecting such a response) and announces he'll play some requests for the hard core fans in the audience. Yet again, my heart is moving from it's home to my throat and I leap into the air and scream. My arms are waving back and forth like some confused bird trying to climb up into the sky. Without missing a beat, he walks over to my side of the stage and asks what I want to hear. I belt the name of my favorite song ever written and he pauses for a moment, turns his head and thinks. A smile of recollection spreads across his face and he nods his head. As his sweaty fingers stumble over the chords to a song he hasn't touched in years he looks down on me like Zeus on a Greek peasant. The lyrics start and him and I are singing a duet, I smile and he smiles back. We're the only people in this whole word that know the words, but at least we're not alone. His eyes never leave mine until he ends the song, when the moment rests in peace forever and time presses on. A hundred other voices scream the names of their favorite pop hits, but I won't hear another song he plays. Indeed, I won't hear another sound until him and I talk after the show is over, that's when time will start again.

------
"God grant me distraction."
-Zampano


Related Items

Comments

The following comments are for "Blonde Hair and a Learned Smile"
by Darkshine Raven

Memorex?
Was this real, or made up? :)

I liked this. Great descriptive details that took the piece up and away, and although I don't know this, made it seem like you just flew through it when you wrote it.

Couple of things: "it's" should be "its", and "him and I" should be "he and I". Other than that, great job, DS.

( Posted by: Elphaba [Member] On: November 14, 2003 )

touch of realism
Darkshine~

I agree with Elphaba that this one feels like a real life experience. It feels visceral and real from almost the first sentence. Great job.

The prose is tighter than your usual work, and the descriptive passages are exceptionally well done. There are a few places however where the diction and style seem to shift. It's not too jarring but disrupts the flow just a bit.

And that's my two yen.

Bart

( Posted by: Bartleby [Member] On: November 14, 2003 )

a dear experience
Indeed, this is a real life experience. As a matter of fact it's one that I had less then a week ago which may account for some of the clarity.

I saw a couple concerts by Mr. Art Alexakis (lead singer from Everclear/huge influence on me) on Sunday and Monday nights and that's what this story is about. I tried hard to be descriptive, but I think it mostly came out so well because it had such a profound effect on me. I've seen Everclear and met them before but these concert were very intimate. Both nights, we talked to Art for about 45 minutes afterward. So, it was very enjoyable.
He's an amazing guy. =D

Bart- I'm curious, where do you think that the style shifted? I'd like to try and patch it up a bit. Thanks! And thank you Elpha for your compliments. =D

( Posted by: Darkshine Raven [Member] On: November 14, 2003 )





Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.


Username:
Password:
Subject:
Comment:





Login:
Password: