“Wow…”
“What?”
“The ironies of life. In four months, you’ve helped me realize something that I didn’t understand for twenty years.”
“I’m telling you, it’s the age. You always were the slower one, Kumquat.”
“Ah, maybe. I’d rather like to believe that I’m just learning faster than you ever can.”
“Humph. So what is this ‘slow’ realization of yours about?”
“It has to do with truth, absolute and relative, love, and
purpose. But most importantly, perspective.”
“I see… You must remember though, I don’t believe in love.”
“So you say, but you must remember, that I do, dear Cassandra.”
“As always, you’re being blind.”
“And you’re a fool.”
“We all have flaws, right?”
“Yep. It’s a part of being human. Life’s just a matter of choosing the right ones to keep.”
“And then?”
“And then? Then you can truly live. And do what we do best: shag the living hell out of life and be happy about it.”
“Haha… always the idealist.”
“Yes… but by choice.”

[KsQ micro-dialogue 1]

By Cathaka

You sit, patiently, in your chair as the conductor waves his arms one last time.   The night has been long – sometimes too long, sometimes not long enough, sometimes just right.   Sometimes.   It’s all about the odds, isn’t it?

He waves his arms with flourish, a dramatic end for his dramatic harmony.   Not his, you think.   For all the times he listens to the music in its soothing beauty, for all the times he feels the music as it warms his soul – it isn’t his.   It will never be his.

The crescendo which precedes the end now sounds, and the music swells.   The audience moves to alertness with hands at ready for claps of appreciation, you amongst them.   And in your head, as the symphony comes to the limitations of its own finiteness, the beginning notes begin to rise in your mind.   In your head, you hear them; in your head, those provocative allusions to what would come are now taunts and you remember, yes you do.   You remember the anticipation, the wondering, the ability to lose yourself in the overwhelming magic of the music before it was tainted with the human proclivity to waste the most valuable things in life.

In the brief moment of pivotal silence before the auditorium erupts into cheer, you think to yourself how very beautiful it had been then.

Because at the end, you always start thinking about the beginning.

lol–what is going on??