Beat

I am standing on the side of the stage. Nerves are raging through my body while other players are standing on the stage in the spotlight doing their performance. The neckband of the guitar hanging around my neck feels heavy. The curtains drop and stage hands spring into action to setup the stage for us. Setting up drums, mic stands and keyboard. I grip my guitar a bit tighter then necessary and we all go to our places on the stage. We only get an short look at each other before the curtains go up again.
Then it's time, the curtains go up and the drums start playing the rhythm of our first song followed by me who is playing the bass. The keyboard and finally the guitarist completes the sound of our song. The lights blind me when the curtains are completely up and they make it difficult for me to look beyond them. Although we can't see past the lights the sound does and gives us the feedback we want to hear. The song appeals to the public. The sound of screaming people reaches us as the song ends and we catch our breaths for a moment. We glance a look at each other and on their faces I can see how I feel, knowing they can also see it on my face. The fear that we had at the beginning is gone and was replaced by happiness and joy. Without waiting we start our next song. The rest of the concert goes by in a flash leaving only the memory of the musical beat from the songs resonating from our bodies and instruments into our very beings with the cheers from the croud as support.

Ghost lullaby

In the empty room on the end of the hallway this time, in another room the next or in the hallway itself the time after that. People have come to the place before and all have claimed to have heard it. A strange sound on moonless nights like a soft breeze of the wind. Others claim it's like a musicbox that makes soft plinking sounds but it's always a strange tune. When you try to look for it the sound moves or disappears only to reappear somewhere else. The sound both follows and is followed by you as you walk through the place. The longer you stay in the place you get the feeling the sound gains volume as though amplified by the walls around you. It gives you the feeling that you are getting closer to the source. The sound now fills the room you entered but still is it impossible to tell what it is, although you get the feeling that you know it. It keeps luring you to the center of the room, where the feeling of familiarity is coming from. As you try to figure out where you heard the sound before you come in the center of the room and you close your eyes to focus on the sound. Slowly your mind fills with flashes of memories of the past, except it's not your past. Although the memories have a calming effect they are laced with an eery edge as if something bad is going to happen. You open your eyes again and look around the room to find the source of the sound but you can't find anything. Although the room has been empty for a long time you can still see what used to be in the room, as if the images are carried by the sound. Then the sound grows more familiar and your feeling of unease grows as you still can't find the source. The sound changes into a lullaby as it keeps awakening the memories that are not yours. You start humming along with the lullaby and as soon as you hear a voice you realise that it is your own that is singing along at first unclear but slowly gaining power. You notice that its an lullaby that you should not know. While this is happening the flashes of memories increase and your sences are on overdrive. Someone is coming up from behind you, or is it an memory? The line between present and past blurrs as the lullaby reaches its peak and you turn around. The air in the room grows cold the sound stops and everything turns black.

City of angels

They are all around as I walk daydreaming through the city. Unknown to me and themselves angels are walking around me, in the street I currently walk in or in the next street over. A Lady is helping an elderly woman crossing the street. She doesn't consider herself an angel but with a bit imagination I can see the white wings on the lady's back. To  the old woman she is an angel that helped her out. Not much later a young man helps up a girl that tripped. Again I can see the stereotype with wings. I think that people that help others can be considered one in one way or the other. If you look at it that way everybody is somebody's angels in a way and if everybody is an angel then is the entire city filled with them. A man that is sitting on a bench next to a girl that is talking to him with tearfilled eyes and the man then putting his arm around her in an attempt to comfort her while listening to her story. A way to be an angel to somebody just by listening to them and give them a vent out of their troubles. These are some of the best angels that there are, for they have infinetly broad backs to help carry a load of someone else. Although this city is filled with them there are those that stand out more than others. Be it with their actions or just being there at the right time and place. Their wings are more clear than others and we have to cherish them the most because in my eyes they are the angels to the angels. So daydream and see the wings for yourselves in your own city of angels for I'm sure that they are there. Unknown to you and themselves.