Memories Lost in Melodies

 

 

A Story Idea  

    Their every step played a note, in sync, in time—I’ve been told they could make a rhythm out of raindrops, coax a smile from the grayest of skies. To watch them, was to be enchanted. To hear them, was to shatter. Whether it be tears of joy or sorrow, their music would leave no face dry, no soul untouched. 

Impromptu duets no longer float through the River Marketplace. No crowd gathers before the crystalline stage. Some still perform, every fortnight or so someone attempts to lift the daze, but it only ever thickens the fog. 

You’d think—five years later—someone would’ve taken on their mantle. Someone, most of everyone thinks, like me. The younger sister of the most talented performers of our time, Celine and Cory Kystaline.  

‘You studied under them. You came to every one of their performances. You could never stop talking about them.’

A fire ignites behind my eyes, its smoke clouding my vision and the burning pain causing me to stumble. The voices fade, they always do. But their truth lingers. If it is true, then why can’t I remember them?