The Perfect Performance (Short Story)

It started with silence, and then the music exploded from my throat.

There was nothing more beautiful or more pure than this moment. I was truly and completely everything I wanted to be. I allowed the words to flow without thinking about them and they passed through me flawlessly.

It was peaceful, perfect in this world within the music. So amazingly pristine that I longed to revisit this place every time I concluded a song. I needed to allow my heart to pour forth in the words that I loved.

A harmony joined me, and nothing felt better than that moment. You can fall in love during a duet, almost as easily as you sing the song. Your eyes meet, and your voices swell together in an embrace so intimate that it surpasses anything that you could do physically. They swirl around each other, blending, and eventually becoming one. The perfect union. The only way we could ever match that outside of song, outside of love, would be to make a family.

Our voices flowed as if nothing in the word could separate them. They washed through the air, imprinting listening ears with joy, pleasure, desire.

It resonated long after the duet finished, and our eyes met for one last time, before dissolving into downcast smiles, our hands meeting halfway between us.

I could kiss him now, but the passion would be cheapened by such a display.

The music has spoken.

And I am in love.