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Rated: E · Draft · Other · #2044743
Inspired writing after i listened to what a wonderful world.
Her heart was beating fast. Her palms were sweaty and the overhead lights seemed to radiate beams of direct heat straight onto her forehead. The concert hadn't even started and already she was regretting her decision in a dress. It was a long, flowing dress with a slip underneath. The material was a dark purple, intertwined with black and white to somehow resemble flowers. Think Monet. The fabric was just itchy enough to make the combination of sweat and scratching, strangers probably thought that she had the flu.
From out in the crowd her mother began to wave to her. Lessa's dad was too busy playing with the camera to notice that his wife had started to wave and his child. In the seats next to him were the grandparents. The gym was filled almost to capacity and people just kept flowing in. The principal stood next to the wide double doors, overseeing everyone coming through the doors. It might have been after school hours, but the kids knew better than to goof off in front of a figure of authority.
Eventually the crowd began to thin and the pianist and the director finally came to the front of the choir. From somewhere up in the crows nest someone dimmed the lights. It was time for the choir to show their family exactly what they learned over the last month of school. This was the concert to showcase love for state and love for country. The first song was the star spangled banner, the second was My country tis of thee. After the final note of the piano faded away, Lessa watched for the cue, and sat down on the uncomfortable riser, trying to not step on the girl in front of her. She was unsuccessful and spent the next five minutes trying to silently apologize to the poor girl. All the while, the older students had begun to file in from one of the side doors. There was the large orchestra set up off to the left of the main stage. The brass section seemed to be endless. The last one to come in was the timpanist, a boy who looked to be about sixteen years old. To everyone younger than him, he was the coolest one in the band. He spent the next minute or two tuning the giant instrument. Finally it was perfect to his ears, and the director gave the sign for everyone to stand back up.
This was it. The final song. Sure, the older students would be continuing the concert with their own work, but Lessa's part was going to be over shortly. It was her favorite song, one that she'd fallen in love with over the last month of learning it. The melody was slow and pretty, the lyrics were promising and hopeful. The trombones seemed to suddenly break through the rest of the notes, clear, and perfectly pitched. They made the rest of the sections seem to melt away.
"I see trees of green, red roses too."
Lessa couldn't wait for her part. this arrangement definitely made sure to compliment the men of the choir, along with the brass sections. It was a beautiful duet. Male voices mingling with the deep brass made for a lasting memory.
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