Well, at said concert, U2 sang Where the Streets Have No Name in a tribute to the 9/11 victims. When Bono first came out onstage, he shouted, "America?" and then threw back his head and belted out a really beautiful note. It was a really emotional performance, maybe one of the best tribute to that day of all time. Here's the link if you guys want to check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gq08ouOwiqQ
That note, along with some orange flavored gum, inspired me to write this sort of poetic short story. I really have no idea what it is because it's not exactly either. I call it The Isles of Time. Hope you enjoy!
She
stepped into pools of reckless abandon. Their waters sparkled with the gleaming
of the future and pulsed with the warmth of her armor from the past. Minnows of
excitement nibbled at her bare feet as she waded deeper into his heart.
At its
core, buried within the wall of courage and regret, she made her home. She
stood inside him, her back erect, chest out, and breathed in the scent of his
thoughts. Suddenly, she threw her head back, curls bouncing, and opened her
mouth. Out poured a note of the purest joy, of the purest, most innocent love.
She sang to him and he listened with reluctance.
His icy blue eyes held
sadness. It was like the emotion was a liquid that washed over every surface on
his body. It burned the wounds, gnawed on the forgiveness his history had never
given him. Her song flooded into him with the texture of honey, and soaked up
the sadness until it was gone. When the great flood had vanished, it left not a
trace; only a man that had never truly existed before.
He smiled up at her with his
new eyes and let her help him from the ground. Now he exceeded her height. But
no size, no amount of space physically between them, could ever truly separate
them.
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