WHEN THE MUSIC FADES

I know I have been quiet, so someone decided to break the silence for me. Today, we break the norm. 

Thanks to The Rackster (follow that link for a journey like you wouldn't believe), L.O.P lets someone in to her space. Enjoy the Sunday creativity :-)

"Have you ever been to New Orleans?" She asked.

"No."

"You'd love it. The place is alive with music. The jazz fills your ears and your soul dances."

As she spoke there was a fire in her eyes. A little flame that danced. A gleamer of hope in those big glassy beads. She was engulfed by her own words. Trying to lose him in a city she was all well too familiar with. Her hands were up mimicking the dancing souls her eyes closed transporting her into another world. She was a free spirit. Her name was Louisa.

She opened her eyes and threw her arms around his neck. Planting a soft kiss on his rugged cheek. She loved the scruffiness. It itched but in a comforting way. She looked deep into his eyes as if she were searching for his soul.

"Let's go to New Orleans." She whispered.

She let go of his neck grabbed his hand and led him into a little store along the cobbled streets. She did not wait for a response because she needed none. Hers was not a question but a statement. They were going to New Orleans and that was that.

"Here this hat will look good on you." She said  as she put a blue and white polka dotted Lincoln type hat on his head.

He looked into the mirror on the wall and staring back at him was this hulk of a man. Standing at about six foot two inches and layers of muscle stacked on his frame.

"I look like a clown on steroids Louisa."

His voice was deep and coarse. His lips thinned into a smile. He broke into a little dance; like he was Scandinavian. They both laughed. A few people in the shop stopped to look. They had probably never seen a man so huge acting so silly. It was amusing at the same time disarming. They left the store, hat in a bag, arm in arm and walked into the sunset. The red glow of the sun kissed the cities skyline in front of them a city that came alive in the dark. Their city was much like New Orleans only it wasn't. They were in love only that they weren't.

It had been ten years since they walked out of the store into the sun kissed city's skyline. The sounds of their steps on the cobbled street still vivid in her mind. She was in New Orleans he wasn't.She went alone and hoped he would follow. He never did. For ten years the music that came alivein her mind when they were together was dead. She was surrounded by all she ever wanted but she was alone. Her soul no longer danced. She wondered if he was happy or if he ever looked for her or at least wonder if she was okay.

Shortly after they stepped out of the store his smile disappeared. He was stern and had a worried look in his eyes. He couldn't hold her stare like he used to as his eyes kept darting to the side. He was hiding something and she could feel it.

"What's wrong Gerald?" Louisa asked.

Looking back she wished she hadn't. Maybe her asking had to do with everything that happened.  Maybe if she had ignored everything she wouldn't have burst the bliss that she had come to know.

"This, you, everything." Gerald replied.

"It's not what I want." He continued.

His arms were on her slender shoulders. In a weird way she felt reassured. They were breaking up right there on the cobbled streets. She could hear her New Orleans music fade in the distance. She wanted to cry but couldn't.  She wanted to speak but words failed her.  A dry throat and stinging eyes were her solace. Her breathes were now short her voice almost hysterical.

"B...B...B...but.." She stammered.

He let go of her shoulders and walked away across the street into a crowd of black suit wearing business men. He didn't blend in he stuck out in his red leather jacket but he walked until she could no longer see him.

"Come back." Louisa croaked.

"Please."

Her eyes were a waterfall and they flooded her small round face. Those beady glass balls a shade of red. Her hands were in her hair holding it up scrounging her palms into fists and tugging hard. She couldn't believe what just happened.  She didn't want to believe. She wanted someone to wake her up from a bad dream. She never woke up. Her dream became her reality. She moved to New Orleans chasing the music. She never caught it.

The streets were lined with bell bottom wearing men adorning striped pull necks and black suspenders over them. They were dancing and playing all kinds of instruments. Laughter filled the air and the streets were full of dance. It was some sort of festival. Louisa was right in the middle of it in a white cinderella dress. She turned with the music swirling the edge of her skirt in majestic whirls and twists. She sang so loud her voice rising into the City's already jubilant air. At last he had forgotten.  Finally the music caught up to her. She bumped into some stranger and stepped back to apologise taking his hands into hers forcing him to dance. She looked up and stopped. That red leather jacket brought back memories. It brought back tears. She was both happy and sad. She was choking on both nostalgia and grief. It was Gerald. He came finally to New Orleans.

"What did I tell you hmmh" Louisa said

She moved in circles around him holding his hands smiling and laughing. Her eyes still large and glassy. Her 

face still small and round her smile still golden.

"You were right Louisa." Gerald replied

She then let go and walked into the crowd. Leaving him mesmerised searching frantically for her. But she was gone. Lost to the city lost to the music.  She was New Orleans. He was not. Sometimes some loves are meant to be lost never to be found and that's exactly what happened.  He lingered around the streets for the next few weeks. Walking around in his lazy strut and red leather jacket.  Hoping to catch a glimpse of her one more time. But she was gone. Probably bringing music to someone else's life. It had been too long. He felt foolish for thinking otherwise. But a man can wish. He had things to say. Like how he came back to the cobbled streets every day hoping to catch her. How he heard she had flown into New Orleans and he flew in two days later. Searching for her. How the city had been cruel and there paths never chanced upon each other. How he danced at every festival. How he had a wardrobe of red leather jackets because he knew that was the last thing she remembered. He carried these words to his grave. When the music finally died forever.