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Eine Kleine Nachtmusick
“Eine Kleine Nachtmusick” for Two
This was it, the moment he’d been waiting for. It was simply nothing. A point and time were everything was serene and there was only him, the black sky with its winking diamonds, the ocean waves and, finally, the sand taking the shape of his bare back. It was a heaven-sent moment which nothing could replace and that could not be recreated by man. Tristan smiled and took the moment in. It was moments as such that he lived for. The night held an unknown beauty that was more appealing than the sun and the blue sky. He stood and held his arms out as the wind blew; it brought about the sensation that he was soaring above the sea.
Suddenly, a beeping noise made him jump, and with a harsh thud, he fell to the floor with his face hitting the edge of his night stand face first. Then he realized what was going on; he had fallen from his bed. The beeping continued and the sun peered through the chink between two curtains of his bedroom window. The room appeared red as the sun glowed through the thin material of the drapes. Then he began to see the dripping of red onto the floor. He slowly pushed himself up and felt under his eye; he was bleeding. He quickly made his way down the hallway and to the bathroom. He looked deeply into the mirror and was slightly angered by what he saw. Blood made its way out of the opening of his skin down to the left side of his lip. He grabbed a paper towel and wet it with warm water; even after fully wiping it, pink muscle showed through. The area around his eye began to appear as the color purple. The beautiful painting of his head and face - dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes -- was ruined by a blotch of pink, a streak of red, and a shade of purple. He felt as if the day was bound to be terrible.
Tristan cracked the bathroom door and scoped out his surroundings to make sure that none of his roommates would see him. He didn’t want to deal with questions. “What happened last night? Did you get into a fight?” All of Tristan’s roommates were waiting for him to let loose and secrete some animalistic behavior. However, Tristan had a talent for avoiding bad situations. And so he did again. He walked out of the bathroom with one hand softly rubbing his left eye. He made it to his room unharmed by annoying and pointless questions about his eye.
Past the morning frustration, Tristan couldn’t keep his mind off of his dream. Until recently, he would only go to the beach at night by himself a few times during the month. Lately he found himself going more frequently. His sophomore year of college came with extra stress and the beach was the only place where he would find relief. The experience was always been beautiful. However, no experience was quite like his dream. His dream consisted of an inner placidity. In his dream, stress and worry simply didn’t exist. Perhaps that was what he was searching for in his nightly visits to the beach. Perhaps his dream was a possible moment. Tristan wanted to capture that moment that he felt in his dream but, of course, without his alarm clock beeping and him falling over the left side of the bed.
. . .
That night, he began to take a walk close to the water pondering and thinking about things that happened throughout his day. The day wasn’t special in any way. To Tristan, it was bland. He thought that it was a day that would get lost in the repetitiveness of his life. After awhile of lying shirtless in the sand he realized that the end of his day was going to be very different. He lay in the sand with his eyes closed feeling the wind blow on him.
Then on his right he heard a high-pitched, “Hi.” It took a while for his vision to fixate on a brown haired female about his age, smiling at him. He immediately judged her. To Tristan, she was too attractive to know anything of substance and her high-pitched voice gave him the intimation that she was childish or naÃ¯ve. Initially, he was slightly annoyed by this. She invited herself to sit next to him
“I’ve noticed you for the past few days. Do you come every night,” She said cheerfully.
“Hello, my name is Tristan,” he said, “that’s how people introduce themselves before they begin to talk to strangers. What’s your name?” She stared at him for a moment confused about how to receive him. “I’m only kidding. Don’t take me so seriously; I’m harmless,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh…I thought you were serious.”
“I get that a lot.”
“Okay,” she said still slightly confused. “My name is Augustine”
“No I’m not being serious. But to answer your question, I’ve been coming here a lot lately”
“Sometimes I come here for a release of a stressful day. Most of the time I come here to just enjoy the setting.” He paused. “I guess this is kind of weird, but I like the beach at night. It’s more relaxing; the day is too hectic.” Tristan knew that his reasons for going were a lot deeper than that, but he choose not to say.
“That’s just like a guy to say,” she said in a matter-of-fact way. “You’ve probably never realized the true beauty the beach at night. It’s something more than you can see.”
This triggered something in Tristan. He realized that he had judged her too quickly and unjustly; he suddenly felt the need to edit what he’d already said. “Well…of course I have. It’s not just enjoying the setting. I enjoy the experience because it’s kind of personal for me and at the same time that’s the reason why I like the beach at the night a little more than the day. The day time takes away the personal experience of it.”
What he’d said triggered something in her. Then, she chuckled because of his child-like reaction. “You mean taking away from it like the way that I am right now?”
“NO! NO! that’s not what I meant.” She seemed impossible to Tristan.
“Consider this: what does a beautiful experience mean if it can’t be shared?” She said thoughtfully.
“Okay you win.”
“Hey I’m not trying to beat you in a debate,” she said more seriously but smiling. “I’m just trying to…” she moved closer to him.
Then it clicked Tristan understood. He smiled at her. Augustine smiled back. About ten seconds passed of them just smiling at each other. Apprehensively, Tristan grasped her hand as she lay softly on his shoulder. Then, the moment that they’d both been waiting for came. Without a word they smiled. Augustine held in her chuckle. They enjoyed the soundlessness, the stillness…they enjoyed the nothingness together.
This will certify that the above work is completely original - David Parks