A Thousand Perfect Notes

by C.G. Drews

Cheerfulness is irritating, but it suits some people. Some people are born for sunlight and orange peel smiles and running on the beach and wild flowers in their hair. Other people are born for nonexistence.

He doesn’t look back. But he hopes her smile returns when he’s gone, because it’s a cruel person who steals smiles.

It’s easy to drag himself through life with his eyes closed and accept the hate – until someone bumps him and forces him to look up and realise life’s cutting him with broken shards while everyone else is dancing.

‘Dude,’ August says, ‘your eyes have this permanent devastated look, like someone stole your ice cream and stabbed your puppy and then told you sprinkles were illegal.

‘There are some people,’ the blueberry says, ‘that you hope will slip off the stage and break both legs.’ ‘I feel you on a spiritual level,’ Beck says.

Sharing music is personal because music speaks, it feels, it breathes. And it always says something about you.

Life was less painful when he didn’t know what he was missing.

He hates it because she is hope and tomorrow and he’s a goodbye and the end.

‘She is the kind of girl,’ the Maestro says, ‘who falls in love with a broken toy, but once it’s fixed, she moves on. She wants to “save” you.’

‘I think you have more than nine dogs,’ Beck says. ‘Oh, I have nine dogs,’ August says. ‘My parents also have dogs. Then there’s the turtle and an aviary for the birds outside.’ She glances at the budgie. ‘Most of the birds,’ she amends. ‘There are a few cats and a goat, but we’re only babysitting the llama.’ ‘Naturally.’

No, he likes her because there’s sunshine in her eyes and she knows the secrets to smiling.

‘Behold,’ August says. ‘The most beautiful sight in existence.’

‘Chocolate is a substance worth existing for,’

Passion is more important than perfection.’

‘Oh stop it.’ She faces him, speaking clearly, and he hears her this time. ‘You are worth more than a thousand perfect notes.’ And finally, his hands stop trembling.