May 5th 2010
Back and forth, soft and low they speak urgently to one another, excitement fills the voices of the Watchers.
They lean forward, eager to see outcome of the story;
The Conductor taps his staff, pauses and raises his arm: there is a deep intake of breath from those playing the wind instruments;
The sky is dark, the sole noise is that of one lonely bird patrolling the darkness. He does not call, only the flapping of his wings beating away night breaks the stillness;
The land lays flat and untouched by vegetation, warm and waiting for rain to give it growth.
The Silence is broken by the noise of a thousand instruments playing the most beautiful song ever written, the Sun bursts forth, rising like this is the first time it has greeted the world, a flower raises its face to the sky, joyfully basking in the warmth and the Watchers sigh in contentment, beholding the happy ending they saw written in their dreams.
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