11:3

The notes from the opening refrain to the Moonlight Sonata filled the room and the narrator glanced at his watch. He quickly stood and walked over to the massive wooden desk and grabbed the large bundle of bound pages without sitting and then hurried over to the podium set against the large oil painting with the vintage gold wood frame.

Light was streaming into the room through the large, floor to ceiling window, but the heavy faded red velvet curtains were half drawn so despite the beams of sunlight, the bulk of the room remained shadow-filled and gloomy. The narrator opened the well worn manuscript and quickly turned to the closing pages. Picking a spot just a fingers breadth from the end, he started to flip quickly in reverse, scanning each page quickly and nodding in satisfaction.

Eventually he slowed and finally stopped with his finger crooked at a point about three-quarters of the way down the page. With a satisfied smile he stabbed down with his finger to the obvious break in the story and lifted his eyes from the document just as the piano notes faded away.

He straightened his posture, drew his shoulders back and down and turned his head slightly to the left side, raising his chin almost imperceptibly and inhaled.

The look in his eyes was neither distant nor inviting. It was as if he was a warm and breathing statue that stood to be admired, even worshipped, but unaffected by anything that existed outside his creator’s purpose. Here was a man who’s destiny was known to him and who stood on the brink of the ultimate fulfilment. Here was that mythical creature of song and story who knew beyond any possibility of doubt that he was where he was ordained to be.

As the man drew in a smaller breath and prepared to speak, no observer would be able to prevent themselves from leaning in, ears turned to catch the each and every morsel that would come. No one in his presence, no matter how disinterested would have been able to resist the allure of the this man’s intensity. there would be no hiding from the truths about to be bestowed.

The lips opened slowly and the universe held its breath.

“Bugger.”