The wind kicked up as Josie exited onto the rooftop of her apartment building, moisture floating in the breeze, promising rain in the near future. Her booted feet crunched on the gravel of the roof, her jacket fluttering about her. The past few weeks had been emotionally rough, even for her, and she had to release those emotions somehow, or it would eat her from the inside out. Training wasn’t going to cut it. Nor would simply sparring. She needed release, of a different kind. Her lips pursed tightly as she placed a foot on the edge of the roof, her fists clenching as she brought them close to her chest, eyes closing, reaching within.
It was not often that she sang; if you asked those in the company, it was a myth. But she did, when she had to give voice to the feelings without actually stating what bothered her. It allowed her to pour all of her frustration, her joy, her rage, or, as in this instance...her sadness.
“Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left it's seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence”
Her voice echoed over the rooftops, filtering into open windows with it’s melancholy rhythm as it lowered into a low mezzo-soprano. A homeless man, a battered guitar in hand, closed his eyes, letting the song seep into him, and began to strum his guitar to it.
“In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp”
From across the way, a few New Yorkers paused and then leaned out their windows, listening in. Passers by on the streets slowed, the soulful voice reaching out to them.
“When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence”
Her voice became more earnest, and those listening in knew that what was sung was not mere hyperbole: she had seen this, and how, oh how did it affect her. Windows slipped open, and a group of gang members from more than a block away stopped, ensnared in the emotion that was pouring out.
“And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening”
Her voice grew stronger in pitch, floating between a low soprano to a higher one, each note hit perfectly, almost spiritual, hands still clenched before her. Many now were listening, held spellbound in their tracks.
“People writing songs
That voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence”
Her expression turned to a snarl, and she threw a hand out to the side, her voice taking on an almost feral mezzo-soprano growl. None who heard would question the frustration and near despair in it as she clenched a fist before reaching out with both hands to her unseen audience, pleading, begging.
“"Fools" said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence”
Her voice filled with pain as she belted out the song, bringing her arms close in again, her audience simply looking up towards the rooftops, their own emotions roiling as she took them on her cathartic ride.
“And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made
And the sign flashed out it's warning
And the words that it was forming”
Her audience felt a pain and anger that they couldn’t express, of a loss so great that it defied their understanding, and the despair that followed on its heels left no illusions: she was hurt, in a way that was almost physical. Until, as she held the last few notes, hope and life trickled in as her pitch rose softly from the growl it had been to a higher, more happy point than when she had started.
“And the sign said
"The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls"
And whispered in the sound of silence”The homeless man’s guitar strummed a few more notes, echoing and punctuating the silence that followed. For a breathless moment, nothing stirred or intruded...and then it passed as the alleyways and streets echoed with muted applause. Tear tracks running down her face, chest heaving, she smiled, and felt several times lighter in her heart. It was done. That there were others who listened in and reacted, was a bonus. She turned, and headed back inside to get ready for the next day. She had a promise to keep, to an old friend.
