I felt the most unimaginable speed seeping through every atom of my existence. I felt myself metamorphosed into sun rays bursting through the dents of the fluffy clouds scudding across a gray sky, then, I landed on an undisturbed pond of water. Metamorphosed into innumerable drops of water, I felt a melody welled-up in numerous cores of my spilt existence. Moments later I felt I was being raised and solidified, yes, each and every drop of me and the drops circling me were sculpted into a crystalline horse by the music spurting out of a violin lodged in the hands of a graceful young woman perching on the edge of a boat. She played and by that the watery horse trailed the boat across the pond.
I, Szpilman, the pianist was taken to the realm of gods when I drove the lance of pain inside me to my fingers and played the most painful melody as crisp for gods as the images of the moment my daughter burnt to a crisp.
In the divine realm my eyes lit on indescribable entities and a pillar at the center filled with glowing colors rising into sky. They told me my melody has shaken the pillar and I had to touch it so the melody inside me could transfer into color, since they had no purpose but one: to colomuse (play music and color) and fill the pillar.
My condition to touch was to see the image of my daughter in Paradise, accepted, I saw her, then I touched the pillar, then they told me I was a god because I had played a divine music. My melody had forged a universe in the hall of universes, gods sent me to that universe.
All alone in a universe dusted with silence, I shouted with a sharp churning agony, even a shout of me, the god turned pieces of rock into malignant demons. With the violin I played and created fair creatures. I witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, demons annihilated, and the last decision was to leave my world and play a melody sent from the archangel, this melody absorbed all the colors of my universe to my violin and turned me into a mortal, human. I abandoned my universe to the Earth, locked up all my memories in a book and left them in the hall of heights.
Some musicians found my memories and the violin after generations and. A savior, a girl was brought up to play this unimaginably fast melody which was the key to bring the colors back. But to colomuse, she had to plunge the bow of the violin through the heart of her beloved and absorb the only color, the red.
She did, colors returned, the melody made her a goddess. Upon entering the realm of the gods, she touched the pillar with one condition: to have me, to avenge.
One day, I was captured and thrown in her book of memories to witness her pains.
“The Melodies” by Abolfazl Mohamadi – 1st Place Winner
Flash Fiction Contest 2016