Neil's Observations

1367 Words6 Pages
Neil sometimes thought that he had multiple personalities. He became aware of the possibilities when his friends noted that he seemed to disappear into his music. When he finishes it would take some moments before he was receptive to his audience. They of course were right, for he was completely cognizant of his having slipped away to other places in his universe. They are a places without stress. It's a place of creation where only abstraction and imagery could possibly exist. He was an explorer in a diaphanous world surrounded by sounds that took on a lifelike presence. He often wondered if he was being schooled there by the authors of the works he was playing. His instructor Dr. Steingart had told him he must befriend his cello, finding out what it expected of him and then let the instrument know what he had wanted it to give to him in return. In the world of his books he became a different Neil. There he was meeting new minds and he explored and participated in their plights and successes. They become a part of him. He took on their realities and only when he finished and put the book down did he admit to it being fiction or another mans point of view. This of course applied only to substantial works. Having read trash novels and seen movies of the same caliber; knowing it was only to entertain, he decided to move away from that format but Devin convinced him that would be tragic. Devin's doctor back in Colorado always watched old westerns. He told him they are always the same. Cowboys never loss their hats in a fight and the villains were always captured and jailed, always wounded, but never killed. That's not real life, but after a day of the real stuff it was fun to escape into nonsense sometimes. His mother had work... ... middle of paper ... ...ould join your “catch” marathon. “You'd need a glove . . . can you catch?” he asked suspiciously. “We don't use a soft ball, y’ know.” “I'd like to try. If I'm no good you can tell me I won't be hurt.” “Today I have a music lesson, but tomorrow after school, say four-thirty. We call that spot we play in: “Our Zone.” “Great, I'll be there,” she said waving, as she hastened to her next class. “She's not my type,” he thought as he headed to his class. He remembered Gabe and himself laughing at her doing the fast walk. It wasn't at her so much as that style of walking. It generates laughter from them no matter who's doing it. Gabe was in none of his classes, but they met at lunch time and walked home together after school. His mother would, at times accidentally be passing the school and they would all walk home together. They both knew it was not by chance.
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