The Day the Music Stopped
By: Candy-Ann Little
The day the music stopped. I remember it well.
We’d been holding hands and walking in the park. The sun splayed across the flower gardens and green paths, highlighting Central Park in deep golden tones that caressed our bodies like a gentle lover.
The musical notes of birds filled the air, while ducks accompanied with their deep baritone squawks. The leaves rustled, barely whispering their song above the squeals and giggles of the children.
Your blond hair drifted across your tanned shoulders, shimmering like a golden wheat field. It felt soft, silky to the touch, and smelled of lilac or perhaps lavender. The gentle lullaby it sang as you walked by my side, seduced my senses, suspending time and reality.
It had been the perfect day, and I’d enjoyed the sounds with the woman I loved most in the world. I thought it would last forever. But it had only been a dream.
Life shattered that day like the windshield that took away my hearing.
I think about you often in this silent world where I now reside. I remember your face, the smell of your skin. Your soft pink lips turned into a smile.
I even recall the tears falling from your green eyes- before the ambulance took me away. I remember everything except the sound of your voice.
I try hard to recall the musical laughter you shared whenever I told a joke, even if it was bad. I try to remember the rhythmic tones and the soft lilt of your words. But they never seem to come to me anymore. Forever abandoned in the past.
I suppose that’s just as well. I’m thankful for this silent oblivion that now surrounds me. I’m happy I never heard the words that broke my heart. I never heard you say good-bye.
Candy-Ann Little grew up in a small town in Ohio. She now resides in Michigan with her husband and two adult kids. When she’s not busy writing she enjoys helping with church activities - especially working with children - reading, cooking and baking.
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