I am weak. I struggled lifting myself up with each step on the stairs. I climbed up to my terrace. The stars were waiting to listen to my violin. It is 20th march, 2040 and I was aware that this was my last birthday. I took out my old violin, the strings were relatively younger than me, but I am sure of the wood being really old. Some tree, a beautiful tree and then an amazing artist would have crafted this magical instrument.
I was playing the strings since last three years, the sound was perfect but sensitive. I held it in my arms, placed the base on my shoulder, felt the wooden surface with my cheek and embraced the bow with my right hand. It was time.
Everytime I used to play, some part of me was transmuted with the vibrations to my past. As I placed the bow on the extreme right string, I remembered my first kiss, a sudden touch and everything disappeared. The emotions of the violin had filled the void of the night with a flush of reminiscence. I glided hard to feel my youth in the old veins of my heart being held by the neurons that have never been so kind when it comes to my sexual frustrations. I did not realise that my force at almost injured the extreme right string and with a sudden break in music, I found myself with three strings remaining to be touched.
By this time I knew how the universe was talking to me, I had to settle my impulses, tonight. I placed the blow gently over the extreme left string and dragged the two energies, the music this time was sharper, somehow more alarming. It was the rush of my senses reflected by the dawn of the night where I spent the time away in arms of a beautiful woman. The night went away faster than I could ever perceive. Somehow the music was hurting my heart. It was not the blood pressure but the symphony of my broken trust in the humane frame of life.
This string was strong like my memories of going through the emptiness of her pleasure principles. My pain had sucked in the air around somehow puncturing my lungs with the break of the sound. Another string had broken its effect on me. Somehow, my energy had drained at this point. The remaining two would be the most meladious, the two key strings I play on the most. The most beautiful music. Frequencies that held my heart since the day I got the feel them.
One of them was sensitive over the other, but loved the sensitivity and the frail sound of perfection.


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