Queen

Back

Queen

The emanciated man in front of them looked brittle. As if he shouldn't be capable of standing, like his knees should be wobbling, hands shaking, and jaw clenched. Yet he did none of these things.

His jaw, though outlined clearly by the taut flesh of his face, was strong and set. The eyes, resting in their caverns, looked outward and flashed between each onlooking person. His lips lifting slightly into a smile as he nodded his head to the music swelling around him. Hands lifting above his head and beginning to pump in time.

The brittle looking man was gone; in his place was an icon. Smiles dancing across his feet. The deep purple and blue hued robe sealed away the slight skeleton underneath. The large billowing sleeves, capturing each motion the man took. Their folds, echoing every movement in soft shimmering silk.

His mouth opened, and from that trumpet came a voice ranging four octaves. Dashing upward and downward in perfect pitch and time. The gaunt skin around his face pulled smooth by the intensity of his vocal performance. For a while longer, the man was alive.

comments powered by Disqus