A Man Of Many Variations

A Man Of Many Variations
By Stephen A Abell.

No. of words: 610



I have a story to tell but don't concern yourself too much because it shouldn't take too long: It is the story of a life and of change, my life.

I was a desolate person and that was the way I liked it. Some people may even have described me as depressive but I wouldn't agree with their views at all. I just liked to be alone with my music. Music to me was a way of life, I would close my eyes and drift away to the plains of my imagination. Reality to me could never compete with the worlds that the music took me to, within my own mind. I would spend hours upon end in dream-scape's, flying over mountains of gold and, oceans of cherry wine. I would walk through cities made of the reddest bricks ever made and smell the seductive aroma of freshly baked bread and apple pies.

As you could probably understand my will to leave my paradise ebbed slowly away until I even lost my will to eat. I must have slipped into a coma as my radio played, and of that time I cannot recall a single thing.

I awoke to the sound of silence and as I looked around I noticed that the room was dark and cold. The clock above my single bed had stopped at 10:24 pm. What day, though. I did not know. I stood up and tried the light switch, no response. I opened my mouth to swear and to my surprise light and sound erupted from it instead. I slammed my jaw hard shut, hard enough to castanet my teeth together in shock. I pursed my lips as if to whistle and a low volume, high pitched violin chord slipped out into the air leaving a snake-like ribbon of a myriad colours. I listened and could hear a tune starting to form so I opened my lips wider. Flutes, violas, timpani, oboe, French horns all started to join in, I held within myself an entire orchestra and the colours that emitted from my mouth were the most lush and vivid that my eyes had ever beheld. I found that I could talk just by thinking the words, their sounds became interwoven with the music to create a truly beautiful melody.

The ribbons from my mouth were starting to weave their way around my body and wrap me up like an Egyptian Mummy. Once they had covered my entire form they began to constrict but there was no pain only the beauty. I felt the ribbons move into my bloodstream and caress their way through my body and I knew the true meaning of pleasure.

Sweet soul music.

I began to wander through the streets of my home town and I began to notice all of the derelicts that lay about on the streets and my heart felt for them. I walked over to one group and felt the cold in their bones and the diseases in their blood. I opened my mouth and shared with them my light and music.

Ever since I have walked alone with my music and I have shared my dream-scape's with millions of billions of people. That is my job: And that is my story.

Now close your eyes if you are scared. It doesn't really matter though because all things play in the movie theatre of your mind. Now open your heart and your soul; come let me in.

I am the Journey Man, the Ferry Man, a rider of the apocalypse, I am at the beginning of things and at the end. For I am Death.