Banana Bread Delight

名刺デザイン

2010-02-02T18:16:00.000-08:00

かーぞーく

2010-02-02T18:13:00.000-08:00

バカ達～三人

2010-02-02T18:00:00.000-08:00

金魚桑

2009-09-07T10:30:00.000-07:00

金魚桑って言う漫画は本当にかっこういいわよ。あたしの一番になったかも。そして、読む時は心がどきどきして、切なくて、ものすぐく甘いほど泣きそうぐらい感じだった。人物はみんなが好きで、恋人達の話はとても涙ぐましい。聾唖者の男の子は十歳から耳が悪くなった、段々聞こえなってしまった。あの人はその時太鼓のものが好きになって、だれよりも人生の大事のことになって、上手の太鼓手になった。だけど、この人は自分の世界の外の人と物が恐くて、他の人に関係がだめだった。でも、彼に自分は他の人と仲良く出来ないことが分かっても、大丈夫だった。でも、彼女に合ったあと、彼の狭い世界が広くなって、変わった。彼女は彼の太鼓の音が好きになって、彼のことを知りたかった。大変だったけど、彼女の気持ちは彼に届いて、その二人は恋に落ちた。この漫画は全部二本だけど、第二のはまだ翻訳出来なかったそうです。もちろん、日本語なら、あたしも読んで見えるけど、それも見つけられない。本屋にもオンラインにも探して見たけど、なかった。中々難しいわよ。頑張ってたのに。

KEI @ archer

2009-08-25T00:08:00.000-07:00

Not sure what happened, but still awesome guys. Here are the photos Kei sent me. I'll put a group shot from Mark or Ren one day. Don't know; lots of drama, but at least it didn't rain on us. Weather gods gave us some slack. (And the dessert? Yes, it was all me. loser doesn't do sweets.)

Wedding-ness

2009-08-04T12:41:00.000-07:00

So my friend sent these to me, super compressed. I'll eventually get my hands on some good qualities--until then, I still have to show off my super awesome sister. She's gorgeous. I can't believe we're from the same womb (ew). But, seriously dude.

order got reversed. too much work to fix:

Some slave labor. but it turned out half decent.

2009-07-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

Wallpaper

Yes; a fan.

Rukia is awesome.

(credits to the chibi's)

2009-07-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

Red Bean (Japanese Cover)

ただ、君の感じ
あたためる意味
何か振られても、もっともの好きなのに
わかれる時、さあ言うだめさようなら
友達から、恋になって、世界かわれた

強く,強く、君の声聞こえる
どこでも、何時でも必ず見つける
愛情の約束
心の中から咲く
手をはなれずに、永遠の歌を続ける

だから、大事にする
君のなを覚える
もし、そむけても、なくなっても、信じられる
二人の話、みかぎる前に
謝ないで、勇気だして、まよわない時

辛く、辛く、影をつれて行く
苦しみも、楽しみも、すべてよく
いただく
君はここにいる、待ってよ、今なら間に合う
ありがとうと何度も、言たいから言わなちゃうよ

2009-07-08T20:14:00.000-07:00

Find Me

曇りだね、雨が降るように見える
（すすり泣いたり、すすり泣いたり、すすり泣く）
僕をじろじろばかり、だれも見ないよ
（ため息をついたり、ついたり、つく）
目覚めてっ言ったでしょう。同情はどこでも得ないだから、
ぱちくりしない、今見届けて行くぞ！

勇気を引き出す時じゃあん、
(失うものはないなら)
君のfighting Pose見せなきゃ
(失うものはないから )

Let's go! 今じゃないなら、it's never
We'll fly!行くべきか分からないばんざい！
ときめきにさせるOh Oh
心beatingどきどき
ほら、止まらない

未来はふたしかであて、よくチャンスがある
（So I フラフラ、フラフラ）
塵は集まってて。時間は止めないね
（あちこちこんざつね）
こうじょうしてっ言ったでしょう
道はここに終えない
心配しない、まよっても、君のそばに行って来る!

しんぽうを引き出す時じゃあん、
（失うものはないなら）
君のPower, yeah, 見せなきゃ
（失うものはないから）

Let's go! 行かないと、こうかいする
We'll fly!今なら間に合う
聞きたい、みんなの声が来るOh Oh
心beating どきどき
僕を見つけてよ

(working on the music)

けい君へ

2009-05-01T20:27:00.000-07:00

１レイヤしかなし-着物....... ごめん、来週の水曜日になってたから。間に合わないかも。

レイアウト、サンキュウー

Story Concept

2008-07-19T21:50:00.000-07:00

Act 02. Another Gesture

2008-07-19T21:48:00.000-07:00

“Humor me.”

I hope you understand the look I’m giving you, Scout. I have been humoring you. And frankly, I don’t find myself to be a funny person--so exactly how much humor do you expect from me?

I understand your intentions. Your smile gives you away. You know I know that. And I know you know that. But you do it anyway to tickle my feathers, probably. I can’t say you’ve failed.

“Funny thing you’re doing with your eyebrows there, fella. Care to demonstrate again?”

I sigh. You smirk wryly. When will the routine end?

“Is there anything particular you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Lighten up there. You’ve got to remove yourself from the patient--counsel mindset and enjoy talking to your fellow man.” You’re giving me that smile again. “Let’s just chat.”

“Scout,” I drawled out evenly, “Your definition of ‘chat’ is pretty skewed, from what I recall of our last ‘chat.’ If you want to ask me about my condition, I’ve written everything of relevance in my journal. Everything else is hardly of your concern.”

You look at me as if I’ve nicked your feelings. I frown. You’re not good at making me feel guilty as you are at making me feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll choose what is of relevance or not, Leon. I thank you for your detailed daily accounts, but they are mainly about your condition and such. And before you tell me that everything else doesn’t matter, I would like to oppose your opinion. Leon, you’ve been here for almost five years now. Your condition has almost completely disappeared. That’s good, but we both know that your Synesthesia isn’t your problem. You have good reason to be as withdrawn as you are, but it doesn’t hurt to try to live. Live, Leon. Not just keeping yourself alive and off the path of self destruction. It’s different. You know that.” You twirl your wrist, making senseless figures in the air as if it would help prove your logic or point. “Now, suddenly, you tell me you’ve had a feeling--a strong one, at that--that you don’t know how to explain. You actively try to seek out someone, for reasons unknown to yourself. I see you space out more often. Dr. Phillip has noticed, Ms. Yun has spoken to me on several accounts, and Season will not stop worrying about you. So, will you care to grow up, Leon, and accept our help?”

I suddenly feel indignant. Perhaps not at you, but what you’ve unintentionally accused me of. I can’t seem to raise my voice beyond a low growl of sorts. “Yes, I’ve been at this special orphanage for almost five years. I help Ms. Yun with maintain the place, I explain my medical history to Dr. Phillip, and I speak with you about everything you’ve wanted me to. Not because I feel obliged, because I don’t anymore, but because this has been my only home for the last five years. You think it’s my own stubbornness that prevents me from ‘living,’ huh? It’s not.”

I decided to end my train of thought there. I don’t feel resentment towards what my father did to our family. My family. I can’t say exactly how much of a family it really was to him. I can’t tell. I don’t want to at this point. But lack of resentment does not mean I can just ignore the fact that it has happened. You keep on telling me to ‘forgive and forget,’ but do you understand how ridiculous those words are?

Some things are not meant to be forgotten; good or bad, it stays. For better or worse, it stays.

Your expression softens. You look like you’re about to comfort me.

“I understand,” you whisper.

Maybe you do. I can’t judge you.

“You’ve been through a lot, Leon. I know what this place means to you, and that’s why you’ve stayed with us even now…when you’re free to go. But I’m not saying you’re refusing our help, I’m saying you’re afraid to get to the root of the problem. You have every right to, but I’m asking you not to. It’s a big request, I know, but you won’t refuse me, will you?”

You’re smiling again. This time, I can’t read it. Seems like you’re doing quite a number on me today. Scout, you’re a real bastard when you need to be.

I sigh, again. Seems like I’ve been doing that a lot lately.

“Fine. What do you want to talk about this time?”

“We’ll talk, like always. But before that, I want to ask you to do a little something. Oh, Don’t look so suspicious! I just wanted you to do some volunteering. It’ll last for about a month. It’s an enrichment program for some children. You’re smart. Helping kids read and doing crafts with them isn’t a challenge for you.”

You seem so certain. This is insufferable. Your eyes are literally twinkling, for whatever reason. It’s amazingly disturbing.

“There’s something you’re not including in this scheme of yours.”

“Scheme?” You look at me in mock offence. “No such thing. This is a chance to help others…and yourself, of course.”

I don’t like the idea already. I have a feeling my preference in the matter will not make a difference, though.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Minute gestures can speak volumes for certain people. That I’m aware of it. As for Leon, although he tries to keep all his emotions all bundled up, he is actually quite bad at keeping what he thinks to himself. For the last few weeks, he’s been spacing out more often. He’s always been a genius, doing well in school and working hard at his job. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a clue.

I asked Dr. Phillip about Leon. Nothing’s the matter, he says. If anything, his case is improving by the day. After four years, he’s almost completely recovered. I wish that were the case for me. I’m glad my condition is light, but I want to believe I can be like Leon. I want to go to a normal school and have the life of a normal girl.

I approached Leon the other day. He said he was well, but I knew better. He seemed to be a bit unhappy about something, but for the life of me, I cannot figure out what. But, I asked him to give me a tour of the college in a few days. To my surprise, he agreed. I’m so happy. I haven’t been so happy in a while. I’ve been out of the clinic many times before, but this is the first time I’m going anywhere with Leon. It’s strange…I want to say that I’m even excited, but I don’t know why I would be.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Season has been restless of late. I don’t want to talk about others, especially not here, for I have neither the right nor the insight to do so, but her endless energy has been affecting me. Sometimes I feel tired with her constantly bouncing around, and sometimes my patience runs thin and I have to prevent myself from losing my temper. I am indifferent to it all, but even I have my limits.

Perhaps she’s excited about going to college soon. That’s why she’s so eager to visit the campus with me this Saturday. There won’t be as many people, and I suppose that is a good thing. She’ll become overwhelmed if too many people are in her surrounding. That is only my assumption, though.

Regardless, yes, I will mind to take care of her while she is off site with me. She is precious to me, in a way, as well.

Tomorrow, I will start volunteering at the community center, at your dictations. You already know I am not too keen on the idea. I suppose what I am fond of or not isn’t really your objective here. I’ve been trying to figure out what your plan is, and I think I have a clue. Right or wrong, as my hypothesis goes, it’s not in my nature to complain now that I have already consented. What you are doing is most likely pointless, but I will “humor you,” as you so eloquently requested.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Season.”

Strange, really. How is it that dog sounds like Ms. Yun? Oh, there it is, calling for me again. Wait, since when did dogs begin to talk?

“Season, wake up.”

The image of the talking dog slowly dissipated, leaving me alone in my hazy thoughts for a split second. Groggily, I force my eyelids apart to reveal Ms. Yun looking at me in a pleasantly stern way. I try to smile sheepishly at her with the edges of my lips mildly chapped. I blinked a couple of times before I remember to look at my alarm clock. I peered around the room. The other beds were unoccupied and already made. Running my hand through my hair as a makeshift comb, I yawned quietly and turned back to the woman still standing next to the charcoal colored doorframe.

“Mmm…’morning Ms. Yun!”

“Not morning any more, missy. It’s nearly noon, and all the other children have finished their breakfast. They’re doing some silent reading right now.”

I stretched my hands to my toes, working out the knots in my bed. I return my gaze to Ms. Yun with a warm smile. “I’m too old for silent reading. I stayed late to finish all the practice problems you gave me last night, so I slept in.”

Ms. Yun eyes waned in a friendly way. “I’m glad you’re working hard, but try not to change your internal clock. What will you do when you start college? Your little clock over there hardly lives up to its function, for all its purpose.”

The amusement never left her eyes as I grinned at her. “But I have you.uuuu.”

“And what if I happen to be unavailable?”

Oh. Right. “Well, I have Leon. He’ll be around.”

Ms. Yun has a funny expression on her face but doesn’t say anything. She smiles after a moment. “Come down to breakfast when you’re ready.”

I stayed sitting in bed for the next thirty seconds thinking; thinking about practically nothing at all.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“It’s so nice to have intelligent, compassionate kids around helping us,“ the volunteer director said to me as we bee-lined around the desk covered office. She brought me into a larger room. “We’re setting up some tables and chairs right now. Why don’t you go help them?”

I nodded and scanned the area, resting my eyes on the girl trying to lift a coffee table, presumably next to the coaches. I approached her and lifted the other corner of the table, the well polished exterior betraying its woody surface when touched.

She look at me and quickly remembered who I was. She offered a small smile. I offered nothing in return.

Together, we lifted the table to the other side of the room. I released my grip when I was certain she was happy with the table’s new location. She patted her hands together and looked at me again.

I held her gaze.

“It’s a surprise to see you here.” Her voice conveyed honesty, but her expression revealed no such surprise.

“I expected to see you.”

My simple admission to her must have startled her slightly. Her eyes rounded in a bemused fashion. She looked at the coffee table then back at me. “Is that so?”

I didn’t reply. There was no need. She didn’t expect an answer. She probably didn’t need one.

Instead of continuing the conversation, she turned around and approached a female arranging papers on a lone desk near the entrance of the room. She was saying something to her, but I couldn’t hear. The lady beamed at Ci and handed her the stack of paper she was previously sorting. She then called out to the boy who conveniently just finished moving the chairs to the round table, and exited the room together. Ci walked back to me, around me, and situated herself on the middle coach. She placed the stack of papers on the tables and started sorting.

Apparently, she felt no need for conversation.

And strangely, as a result, I felt the need to illicit it.

“Do you need help?” Clearly it was not a question that assessed her ability to sort papers.

She looked at me and smiled. I felt relief wash through me like an afternoon rain, unexpected and refreshing. I found a seat a foot away from her and picked up half of the stack and quickly deciphered how she was arranging the forms.

Falling in a steady pace, the soft rustling of papers became a comfortable rhythm that served as a background distraction to the confusion I felt. My head was blank. I didn’t know what to think.

“You never answered my question.”

I didn’t stop in my task and continued to watch his my move, almost mechanically now.

“Scout sent me here. He must have thought that further interactions with you would help me.”

She didn’t indicate any emotions on her soft features. Nor her voice. “He thinks that.”

“Yes.” I answered her statement.

“I don’t think I can be of much help.”

“I don’t either.”

She paused in her work and turned to look at me. She didn’t look offended, but a bit alarmed. “Then why are you here?”

“Because he asked me to.” I told her my reason. I lied.

She smiled blankly. “Really?”

“No.”

She resumed her work as I resumed mine. I didn’t even notice that I’ve stopped.

“I see.”

“So you do.”

I saw her smile from the corner of my eyes. “You’re a funny person.”

I contemplated the thought. “So are you.”

She laughed. I was startled by the sound. So familiar and hollow. I dropped the papers I was holding and stared at her.

“You’ve been running.” I didn’t know what I implying, intentionally, unintentionally.

But she seemed to. Her voice was neutral and crystal clear.

“So have you.”

Act 01. Expression

2008-07-19T21:13:00.000-07:00

I wonder how long it has been since the world first started to fade. How long has it been since I’ve tried to decipher which color the world is losing? I think I’ve forgotten. Maybe it’s been so long, I’ve long stopped caring.

Or maybe, it’s been so painful, I’ve tried to stop caring.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Today, we tried something new. It was more pleasant than unpleasant, but I was slightly overwhelmed by its power and beauty. Today, Dr. Phillip played the piano for us. Or rather, he hit a couple of keys to test our reactions. Some of the other kids complained about the effects, but my experience was very gentle. I wish he would have played me a song. Maybe instead of flashes of beautiful nothingness, I may have been able to paint something out. Like a dream I can never grasp or ask for more, I wanted to see the complete picture. However hazy.

Leon said I was being immature when I confided in him later of what I thought. He said we’re not here to please ourselves or chase something, whatever it was that I was chasing. He said it in a neither stern or mean fashion, so I wasn’t angry with him. But it scared me to hear those words said so simply and honestly. It’s not that I agree with him or disagree with him, but his voice was so calm and his reasoning so real that it unsettled me.

Should I flitter all the fantasy from my reality?

I guess a person in my position has neither the option or the desire to do so. I wonder how Leon would respond if I said those things to him. He would probably just respond with a reasonable answer, thinking my words were slightly amusing and foolish. But he would neither smile or frown when he replies.

No, Leon doesn’t care about those things.

I wonder what he thought of the piano.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Monday. To confirm the reliability of earlier results, Dr. Phillip invited a violinist to the clinic today. She appeared to be a college student, a year or two younger than me. Clearly nervous and a probably unsure of how to present herself in front of people with our disorder, she stayed reasonably silent and polite as Dr. Phillip did some primary checks with us.

Dr. Phillip introduced her as Ci. As I expected, she was a freshmen at the college I attended. It was neither stated whether she was doing this out as a volunteer or as clinical practice, but she was clearly new at this. Let me first state that neither her appearance or attitude seemed odd or unpleasing to me in any general way, but I am writing about my observation of her because for some reason I do not yet comprehend myself, I am interested in this person.

And please, Scout, I do not want to hear you make any crude joke out of this. It’s not the first time I’ve seen or interacted with a normal human girl. She wasn’t special, nor was she striking in any regard. Maybe I am only interested in my own ability to be interested.

In any case, she played the violin for us. The piano we heard last Friday didn’t elicit any particular response from me. But today, I had a reaction for the first time in days. The few notes played for us during testing were nothing special. Some of the more sensitive individuals had very vivid results. I recall one boy started crying. This startled the girl and she dropped her bow. I, however, didn’t feel a thing. When all the testing was done and all the others went back to their own quarters, I stayed behind as usual. It was then I saw the girl in the other room. She was staring at her own violin like it was a foreign object. Distantly, as if it awed and scorched her skin, she fingered the fine strings of the instrument until she gripped the whole thing and hoisted it against her shoulder blade. Slowly, she played. Instead of a few notes of each pitch, as she played for us, she played a melody. Not a sweet melody, not a sad melody, but a melody that stilled time. It was amazing, or maybe she was amazing to me at that moment, because I could not bring myself to turn away. Then, suddenly, the notes faded into a strange bitter taste. I touched my lips and grinded my teeth together harshly, but the flavor persisted.

No, this is not the first time I’ve listened to a violin. Before and after that incident, I continued to listen to the few classical cds I’ve always fancied. But never did I have such a reaction. The bitterness was strong and exquisite, almost to the point where I doubled over to clutch my head.

That’s when she stopped. She must have noticed my presence. I looked up to see her looking at me through the opening of now widely ajar door. I must have increased the gap when I almost fell to the floor. She said nothing and I did not manage to string coherent words together at that moment. So we looked at each other, blankly, as if the other person couldn’t possibly have existed because the person looking wasn’t real as well.

Then, as if we were under a spell, and the invisible wand withdrew its touch, her line of vision jerked and suddenly fell back onto me. She apologized reverently and placed her violin back in its case. She quickly, but cautiously, came to my side and asked me if I was okay.

Do not worry. I was okay. I’m not sure why I almost fell over, but it was not because I was in pain. I did not feel light headed or uncomfortable. Yet, I was unable to tell her that I was fine. Communication was reduced to me looking at her as if she was a vision of some sort.

It must have scared her. She hesitantly took me by the arm and directed me to take a seat on the sofa. She said she would go get Dr. Phillip right away. He was probably just finishing his talk with you in your office. I halted her by taking her hand in a swift precise motion I was not aware I was capable of. My mind was finally back in its right place, if it ever was, and I released her hand and told her I was fine. She looked concerned and probably didn’t believe me. I said I was just tired and for her not to worry. I told her to leave when Dr. Phillip was ready to go.

With that, I left the testing room and returned to the study common. I slid in without anyone noticing, maybe except Season, and finished reading my English novel. Nothing much happened from then on. My behavior today was most likely due to the uniqueness of the melody. It is nothing to be concerned about, but if any other symptoms were to develop, I will notify you immediately.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The sunny weather today made me very happy. The touch of the sun’s rays on my skin made me feel more alive for some reason. There were no test or class today because of the violin-sound test yesterday. If more instruments were to be tested, I don’t think I’d mind. Both the piano and violin gave me brief flashes of what seemed like shades of green and yellow. I can’t really explain it, but I felt free. I don’t think Ms. Yun would allow me to, but one day I would like to learn how to play the violin like the girl from yesterday. Even if I only heard a few notes, I thought it sounded beautiful. More beautiful than the piano. I think she looked beautiful when she played.

The younger kids ran around and played tag and hide-and-seek for a few hours while the older kids sat around and watched TV. When I watch those television programs, I keep on wondering how the world really is. I’ve been outside countless times, but I was never really “out.” I want to turn eighteen sooner. I want to go to school like Leon.

Speaking of which, Leon was a bit strange today. Not that he isn’t everyday, but when I chanced a glance at him, he seemed like he was thinking about something very intensely for a few moments before he returned to his normal stoic expression. He doesn’t expand on his answers nor does he explain what he says. When I speak to him, I feel like I’m imposing on his space, but I genuinely just want to talk to him and be his friend. I wonder why Leon is the way he is. We have all been together for years now, but he still doesn’t open himself to anyone. I want to know, and at the same time I’m afraid of what I may find out. Will I turn out to be like him in a few years? Will the other kids after five-ten years?

I think Leon would say I am being immature again. And maybe I am.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Tuesday. Without class or tests today, the others ran about on their own accord. I did nothing for the entire morning and went to my afternoon classes as usual. I suppose that’s the perk of only being half-enrolled.

I know you will use this for your future reference against me, but something out of the ordinary did occur in school today. Or rather, I did something unusual. I went to the music department and sat in on a rehearsal of some sort. Maybe I was expecting to see that girl from yesterday, but I was neither disappointed or happy when I didn’t spot her among the many faces, each tense with determination, focus, fulfillment, and perhaps fear.

Strangely enough, even after thirty minutes of loud and powerful music, I did not taste a thing. It seems like my response to sound is very selective. Maybe it is like you said. My Synesthesia was more dramatic after the incident and gradually faded over the years. No one really knows what caused my special case, right? I suppose I am more normal than not, but just by stating that I put myself an unfavorable position, don’t I?

In any case, it wasn’t very likely that I’d see her or ever see her again. But it is not a bad thing, perhaps. I went home and finished up editing some papers for that high school kid I mentioned last time. I believe his writing is getting worse, but I suppose that doesn’t matter to him. He pays me to do my job, so I will. I have a few more midterm papers to look over. This month’s paycheck will help out a lot.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I really don’t understand what’s going on with Leon. Today Dr. Phillip came back with the violin girl. Ci, was it? I thought we were done with the violin, but Dr. Phillip said you asked her to come back to play us a few pieces. I was happy, and most of the other were as well. But Leon acted funny. In the beginning, he sat down with the rest of us. He had no particular expression on his face, but he seem like he didn’t mind listening. Ci smiled and bowed before she started playing. It was a cheerful melody, and several kids started clapping. I couldn’t see an image, but the colors appearing in my head gave me an impression of flowers dotting a grassy field. I was happy. But while everyone else seemed like they were enjoying the music, Leon stood up and left the room. What was the matter?

Ci stopped playing momentarily and resumed when Dr. Phillip gestured to her encouragingly to continue. After her performance was over, Dr. Phillip did an evaluation with each of us individually. I looked for Leon, but when I found him, he was talking to you. You led him to your office, and I watched as you led Ci in a few minutes afterwards.

Does her violin playing invoke something very unpleasant for Leon? I was so worried. And then you walk out of your office and spotted me. I gave you a confused look.

And you smiled at me.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

“Does my playing upset you?”

“No.”

Ci looks at me with her brow slightly pinches together. “Then, does it sound bad to you?”

“No.”

Her eyes were unspeakably clear for a moment, but she says nothing. She looks at me as a painful smile arched her lips to a small wane. She turns around and retrieves her violin. I watch her slow movements with no particular expectation or wonderment. She closes her eyes and starts playing.

The melody was not cheerful or happy as it was a moment ago. Instead, the music was fleeting but ever so present. As if I’ve listened to this tune yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that as well. As if I’ve heard it all my life, but missed it all but now. She opens her eyes now but is not looking at anything in particular. She is not playing for herself or anyone else now. The tangy bitterness I tasted the other day returns with an accompanying favor, an unexplainable sensation that burns the tongue. I place a hand on top of my chest. My heart isn’t pounding any faster, but a hollowness starts to squeeze something there. Unevenly. Unreasonably.

I don’t really understand what’s going on, but the more I look at her expression, the more I am unable to tear my eyes from her face. She is not beautiful, maybe slightly pretty, but nothing out of the ordinary. Why can’t I stop looking at her as she looks right pass me.

Slowly, her music fades, and so does the taste I cannot describe. She is looking at me again, the same way she did when I first heard her play the violin.

“That’s the same song you played the other day.”

She looks at me as if what I said was funny.

“Why didn’t you play that for the others?”

“Because,” she smiles as she says this, “humans want to be reminded of happy things.”

“And you don’t want to be.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“No, I want to be.” She packs up her violin and started to head towards the door. She stops two paces from me, and says with neither regret nor remorse, “but I can no longer remember the feeling.”

She walks pass me and exits the room. I feel as if the world and everything else continues, but I’ve taken one step to the side and stilled in everlasting time.