WHEN?

    There he sits on a tree’s trunk with his guitar, facing the open field of the meadow. He wears the strap and positions his guitar well for a play. Anyone who sees him would think he was professional but there he was, an amateur ready to sing to the ambient atmosphere of nature. His ever listening audience. He clapped for them gleefully for allowing him to perform again.

    He tuned the strings and picked his pick from his pocket. He cleared his throat and hummed some notes to prep his voice whilst striking the guitar loosely. From up close, he sounded feminine and even looked feminine from a side view. 

    He was just a little teenager in his little world with a big dream in a vast land. The wind carried the earthy smell of the wet grass and gave a sign for him to go ahead.

    His voice.. Wow. A voice as he began. Then he stopped. Something didn’t feel right. He checked behind and beside. Nothing there. He adjusted his sitting position. Well balanced. So what was it? He snapped his fingers. The right song!!

    He cleared his voice and listened carefully to the whispers of nature. It felt like home but nothing like the home he once knew.

      Before he began, tears trickled down his cheek as memories of his parents flashed. Nature reminded the boy that they are safe with nature. He smiled a little and swore he sniffed his father’s scent as the soft wind brushed his pale cheeks. It was sort of.. comforting. He sniffed and scoffed.

    He knew the song to sing. He placed the guitar again and began with the first verse. My God. 

Can a boy ever sound so girly with a blend of richness of masculine depth in low notes?

I mean, nature could rain for days and bless the land with harvest for singing such a song.

His voice was breathy and soft in the first section:

Things have happened to a young child

Things known to never happen to him

Places where he couldn’t go

Only visioned euphoria for the two

Somewhere he wished to join

Somewhere safe like the abode.

Bridges with chest dominant, clear and crisp

Take me with you

(spoken in whispers) The pain

The(the vowel stretched with clear runs) path doesn’t have to be this way!!(a pretty belt but not where he shines)

     As he continued pouring his heart and voice into the song, the wind somehow carried his voice through the meadow and flocks of bird took to the sky and owned it with grace.

(Speaking in falsetto but in a sing song manner)

(A pleading tone as he looks at the sky) Birds, take me with you

I ( the vowel is produced with a vocal cry) just want to be there!!

Be theeere!! (The last note was a well placed and belted B4, clear and bright, and sustained for ten seconds until it faded like it was nothing). There was a moment of stillness in the air.

   Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. He jolted and unstrapped his guitar quickly and held it like a weapon. He was ready to defend the peace he wanted. He turned to see who spoke and saw that it was no one. He fell to his knees and wept with the guitar on his right hand. His tears trickled from his cheeks and fell where he knelt. 

An unresolved THE END.