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The lift descending
Date: 10/2/2014, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Alexandra_A, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories
purposes: alarm; emergency stop; door opening, to name but three. Music was an oft underused facility. I pressed play. It began. Her enthusiasm was contagious. 'Can you see it? Soaring, gliding, dipping, diving.' I closed my eyes. The music seeped into my ears, filled my head and overwhelmed me. 'Yes, I do. I see it. What is it?' She laughed. 'A bird, you philistine!' I laughed in return. 'I know! I can tell that - I'm not completely stupid! But what bird?' 'A lark. Do you not recognise its song?' I replied honestly. 'No. I have never heard one.' I considered adding how birdsong recognition is not high on the list of a killer's requisite skills, but wisely considered it inappropriate. 'Then listen! And close your eyes and watch it fly.' I saw it all. Set against a cloud-bank of shifting parallel chords, the violin imitated the creature's warbling cry as it hovered then dived and snatched up a scurrying vole in its savage clutching claws. Again it soared, its song a concentrate, a condensate, of the natural bucolic beauty that had once covered the now wasted Earth. Fighting to hold back tears, I wished the piece would end while simultaneously praying it would never end. The dying strains faded. I opened my eyes. Though it was obvious she had been crying, she had recovered her composure and was perched perkily on the arm of the couch. She turned to me. 'Thank you.' 'No, thank you. The pleasure was mine. What is it called? The piece you chose?' 'The lark ascending.' The irony ...