I remember it all. The Shrill of his voice, his piano meant to accompany my violin. But heâs gone now.
I lift my violin to ready position, and stare at the piano, missing him at the seat, and proceed to play Vivaldi Concerto in G minor RV 156, and as I play, I realize the piano would never join in. I put down my Violin, and I brush my hands over the keys of the Piano, before picking up my Violin, and moving to the garden, right outside the french doors that lead to the music room.
âLong ago, there was a concert, and a boy named Antonio Paganini met a boy named Joseph Desaulniers, and it was there, they fell in love, drawn to each other like moths to a flame. The two boys decided to settle down in Florence, which Joseph had loved for the name, and Antonio had loved for Joseph had loved it so.â I mutter.
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âDidnât you want to stay in France? Live in Paris?â
âThe Desaulniers name has been tarnished to a point where if I stayed I would be hated, and, it could only remind me of my brother,â
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Antonio knew how Joseph had missed it so, France, he missed everything about it, but like he said, he wouldâve been hated if he stayed.
Antonio gazed upon the lavender sterling silver roses, Josephâs Favorite.
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âWell you see Antonio, the sterling silver rose means love at first sight, thatâs why itâs my favorite. I think it describes us pretty well, donât you think?â
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Antonio sat at the bench at the far end of the garden, the canopy covered in bougainvillea flowers.
This was where Antonio had taken Joseph for the last time.
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âThis is it for me Antonio,â Joseph smiled at him, before coughing.
âI want it to pause here, before the sun goes down, and I want you to keep living, for the both of us. Donât think of me as gone, think of me as⊠to be continued next time,â Joseph looked out at the garden.
âI love you too Antonio,â
And like that, Joseph succumbed to his illness, and he paused, leaning onto Antonio.
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âShould I pause as well?â Antonio asked in the open air. He knew he would receive no response.
âJoseph wanted me to stay on play, but should I pause as well? Would that make Joseph happy?â Antonio asked himself.
âNo. Joseph would be mad at me,â Antonio sighed, looking at the fallen petals strewn beneath him.
âI suppose that Iâll just have to continue on, without having a Piano to accompany my Violin,â Antonio said as he stood up, getting into a ready position. He started to play, and he heard the notes of the piano, accompanying his song. The song that had brought them together, Vivaldi Concerto in G minor RV 156, So Antonio played, tears streaking his cheeks, as he performed with the accompaniment of his lover for the last time.
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