by LJ Frank
The rain ceased in a similar fashion in which it began – sudden, hard with an abrupt end. The emerging sun’s brightness complimented the earthy scent arising from the damp soil. A warm breeze blew my hair across my face as I walked up to the 19th century academic building, climbed the few stone steps and opened the large arched wormy chestnut oak door. The drawing room that greeted me conveyed an earlier period with its twenty-foot ceiling, chandelier lighting and plank hardwood floors. The opposite end of the room huge Neo-Georgian style windows over-looked a shimmering pond with a number of Canadian Geese floating on the surface. Off to the side of the pond was an adjacent wooded area. A narrow dirt path meandered through the woods of aspen, birch, maple, oak, pine and spruce.
I fixed my gaze toward the middle of the room and took note of the high foreheads, brushed back hair with ornate combs, colorful masks and side slit black dresses revealing taut thighs and calves with feet covered in fashionable flat ankle strapped outdoor sandals. The seated ensemble was focused on the composition at hand. The bows in their hands moved deliberately across the strings of their violins playing a concerto by Johann Sebastian Bach.
When finished two of the women stood up and smiled at me as if in recognition. One of them after putting away her violin in its case walked over to where I was standing, “This is a nice surprise. I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I didn’t know for sure…the text message left me few choices,” I said. “And I love Baroque music.”
“The particular concerto we were playing…it’s rather significant in its implication.”
“Really? And what might that be?”
“Why don’t we take a walk in the woods and I’ll reveal it in detail, ” she said with an enigmatic countenance.
I nodded as she reached over and touched my arm. We ventured to the woods and down the path winding our way to a shallow stream when she stopped and gazed into my eyes. “Do you know how and where that particular concerto originated?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Perhaps I could show you?”
“Oh?”
She leaned towards me. We kissed, our lips lightly grazing the other, then our tongues began to touch, encircle and devour the other. Our bodies pressed against each other as we indulged and tasted the sublime. At some point under the heat of moment she whispered to me, “I need to tell you something. It has to do with this concerto and things you may have heard about me.”
“I don’t know what you mean…and …I’m not into listening to innuendos or gossip.”
“Thank you. I was hoping you’d say that.”
“You’re welcome. I must say…you overwhelm my senses.”
“That’s good to hear. I need to tell you about what I referred to.”
“You have my attention,” I said kissing her ear.
“I’m glad because what I am about to reveal to you Gerard is…well…”
“Gerard?”
She titled her head back and touched my cheek with her hand. “Oh…I see…well…a life worth living hardly allows us to be completely inconspicuous.”
