When The Heart Breaks and Sings
December 18, 2009
On the horizon, a blackish purple storm-cloud played upon the sky, steadily encroaching upon the English harbour. However, the rest of the sky remained a creamy shade of white, much like milk, but with little wisps of greying mist interwoven through the achromatic distances. Floating up from the steamships’ towering grey striped stacks, dark clouds dabbled this serene sky. They dotted the bleakness like inky punctuation set against a bleached page. Throughout it all, the clanging of bells and the shouting of muffled voices filled the atmosphere like the fog floating mere inches above the water during these morning hours.
The grey tragedy of a day became the setting for a young man’s frantic dash along the swelling seaside. Called by the name of Sullivan Black, he had sprinted from his small, sullen house situated by the bay, still buttoning his drab vest and tucking his silver watch into his pocket. He was a young, freelance author and artist struggling for a living, barely earning enough to eat, but aspiring for greatness. His goals, being set, perhaps, unrealistically high for his social stature, were always looming just beyond him, giving him something to pursue – something to chase. Within his hazel eyes, a vehement passion burned with all the urgency of youth and an idealism spawned from a lack of experience. Upon his unfortunately angular nose rested a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles, suspended from small, round ears, which took in and examined every sound that drifted from the harbour.
His eyes wide and lips parched, parted for breath, he rushed onto the cobblestone streets of the seaside village. With his heart throbbing within his chest, he ran his fingers though his unkempt mess of brown hair as if to style it a touch before his appointment. This appointed meeting included but two people, and these two being himself and an engineer’s eldest and only daughter, Sophia Copper.
Sophia had fine features, and had been regarded by many of the city’s young men as a particular prize after which to be sought, wooed, and then won. The gemstone set within a crown of cold, careless industry. Her family was wealthy, for her father had not only inherited a great fortune from a deceased uncle, but had also invested and worked diligently to build up a sizable collection of capital. With these two qualities in her favour, Sophia had been romanced and propositioned time and time again, only to refuse all of her suitors in her ever polite, quiet voice, much to her father’s frustration and anguish.
The two, Sullivan and Sophia, being from opposing sectors of the social order, would have had very little chance of meeting, much less of establishing a firm friendship. However, as Fate had it, Sophia’s father, Sir Edwin Copper had been in the market for a painting to fill the wall in his manor’s sitting room, and, as such, had contacted Sullivan to fulfill the assigned job. During this time, Sullivan and Sophia met and discussed a great many topics that bound them very close together.
However, Sir Copper didn’t view the match with a favourable eye and, in fact, voiced his objection wholeheartedly, but never so firmly as to sever the two’s connection. While their social standings were disgracefully opposite, they weren’t so far departed to merit being socially separate. Also, in their favour, Sullivan’s late parents had been of a higher class than the one that he, himself, had chosen. In short, though Sir Copper disliked his daughter socializing with a young man of a lower station than their own, he didn’t view it disreputable to the point of deserving the destruction of the relationship between them.
Sullivan reviewed all of these things as he ascended onto to the docks, pausing to catch his breath before again searching for Sophia. Before long, he found her. Standing stationary, she wore a violet dress of satin and velvet with delicate lace decoration. Upon her shoulder rested a purple parasol to shade her complexion from the sun that didn’t dare peek out from behind its cloud cover. Sophia’s face was fair and pale, as if she spent most of her lifetime behind the ornate doors of her city home. Her hair was pulled behind her in elegant fashion, and she wore a feathered hat pinned atop it. But perhaps her most defining characteristic was her eyes. They were round and curious, always observing and contemplating the intricacies of the world around her. They were deep, dark orbs of brown amidst clear pastures of ghostly skin. Unlike any other set of eyes, they could pierce one with a glance, only to glisten again within an instant and fill all observant souls with a majestic awe like they had never felt before. They danced. They sparkled, twirling within realms of glorious eccentricity as all the cosmos watched and adored. As Sullivan approached, he thought her otherworldly. Ethereal. As if Heaven had fallen to kiss earth and produce a single gem of brilliance incomparable to the moon or any of the stars scattered across the midnight skies found only in the secluded havens of virgin nature.
Sophia turned and smiled as she saw Sullivan come closer, “Sullivan, dear, haven’t you made such a mess of your tie.”
“Oh.” He looked down at its crumpled form with a raise of his arched eyebrows. “I suppose I did. How dreadful.”
“Not so dreadful. Here, let me fix it for you.”
“You needn’t, but – thank you, Sophia…I would have taken the time to fix it proper, but I worried that perhaps I’d miss you if I tarried to long…”
“Oh, Sullivan.” She looked up through eyes sparkling with new, unsung tears. “Thank you for thinking so much of me. I really don’t deserve it. I – I’m not sure, but I’m sure I’ll be all right. I believe. The ship Daddy chose, I’m told, is very safe and comfortable…”
“I know, miss.” Sullivan nodded, forcing a small smile to cross his thin lips. “He would only give you the best, as you deserve. You’re worth so much, don’t ever let yourself believe anything besides that. Please.”
“Yes…Yes, all right. For you, Sullivan, but only for you.”
There was a pause, as the seagulls crooned their sorrowful song, proclaiming their misery across the bleakness of the chill morning. The sun hadn’t reached the fullness of the sky as the town bell cried the hour had reached nine. The sound had long faded before Sullivan spoke again.
“You look lovely.”
Sophia blushed. “You say such pretty things to me. But Sullivan, I’m frightened! America is so far away, and I worry – Sullivan, will I ever see you again?”
Sullivan bit his lip, trying to hold back the lump materializing within his throat. “I don’t know, dear. I don’t know. It’s so far from England, and I just…I– I don’t know.”
“I’m so frightened.” Sophia pressed her cheek against his shoulder in her melancholy embrace, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you. I know Daddy is doing this to separate me from you – the education opportunities in the New World cannot possibly be any more proficient than those available here, but he insists that I should depart, and his words regarding you grow more scathing with every day that passes by!”
“Shh shh…I know. You’ll be all right; you will be, even without me.”
“But how can you be sure? How can you know?”
Sullivan squeezed Sophia softly, as he bit his lip harder than before. “There is more in this world than me, Sophia. There is so much more. The eternal. Life goes on. Know this; stand on it. And know that every day that I live, I will think of you.”
“Dear, dear Sullivan.” Sophia sobbed, “I do not deserve anyone like you – I don’t think anyone could, but thank you so, so very much.”
A cry rose from the peer, and a bell rang in response. The people surrounding began moving in the direction of the noise, and Sophia pulled away from Sullivan’s arms, her eyes wet and cheeks stained by her tears. Her lips trembled as she glanced about in her anxiety.
“I must go, I wish I didn’t have to, but I must. I’m sorry.” She apologized, wiping her eyes with her frail fingertips.
“Then go,” Sullivan blinked again, trying to hold his own composure together. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Sullivan. Always.”
“Always.”
These words spoken, Sophia clutched her suitcase and fled into the placid crowd boarding the ship. She vanished, and moments later the smokestacks chanted their morose melody, and puffed their cruel clouds into the skies. They seemed to cry out, over and over that there wasn’t hope left in the world. This rhythm possessed Sullivan to run. He ran, pushing his way through the maritime crowds in search of a vantage point. He clamoured through the bustle, surmounting the noise. Forcing his way to the tip of the moor, he climbed atop a crooked, wooden post and stood there, watching the love and life of his existence sail away. He waved until the ship faded from view, immersed by the fog blanketing the horizon. The ship wouldn’t stop again until it reached that land across the ocean. America. The New World.
Sullivan stayed on the docks until the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds sometime in the middle of the afternoon. Sighing, he dried his weary eyes and trudged back to his shallow cottage thinking and murmuring to himself. Over and over in the forefront of his mind, a disheartened phrase repeated itself until it played upon his tongue, where he could almost taste the bitter salt of its tragedy. They were words of hope, though laced with feelings of despair. Words of consolation, but saturated with misery.
Over and over the artist whispered. “This is not forever. This is not forever. This is not forever.”
Over and over he cried. “This is not forever. This is not forever. This is not…”
Little Drummer Boy
December 9, 2009
‘Tis the Christmas Season, and as such, I’m beginning to feel a little bit Christmasy. Because of this, I’ll be doing things in preparation of Christmas. These things include buying Christmas gifts, and doing all manner of seasonal greetings. You know the drill.
Last year, I posted, I believe one Christmas song on this blog. That song being by Relient K, and I’ll post it again this year, as it is a bit of a tradition. However, today, I’m posting a cover tune by The Almost. Mr. Aaron Gillespie recorded a cover of Little Drummer Boy, which is amazing, as he’s an excellent drummer, and recently, I’ve discovered that there is now a music video for the song. Enjoy.
Also, I wrote a song that isn’t very Christmasy. But I have written a Christmas song this year, and hopefully Caleb and I can record it before long (here meaning “before Christmas”, and I’ll post it then. Thanks.
The Bridge:
Our leaf fell passing by,
Spun desperately away.
If this is how it ends,
This precious leaf will fade to grey.
And it’s just not the same…
> We are not to blame.
I can’t seem to find you,
Apart from this photograph,
Your lips are so disheartened
Like ship’s sinking mast,
Like a shattered glass.
(But) This won’t last forever,
Only for a while…
This won’t last forever,
So my darling smile.
We live in black and white,
Just sleepers to see the dawn,
The bridge crossing our hearts,
This blessed bridge is all but gone (And I, withdrawn)
So I’ll stand upon the bridge,
Waiting for your face,
And when you come into view,
Our leaf may no more be grey.
Trailer Four Update Vlog
December 2, 2009