The Orchestra Short Story

As the conductor entered the silent hall, the lights over the audience started to dim until only the orchestra was illuminated. With his penguin-like coattails wobbling behind him, the conductor stepped onto the gray and worn-out podium, and checked each face of his performers. The small wrinkles on his cheeks slightly lifted as each member grinned back at the conductor. The dimly-glowing white baton began to rise in the air, and with a small twist in the wrist, slowly swirled in front of the orchestra, as if chanting a spell to lure the audience into a world of magic. At that moment, the harp began to sing with its angel-resembling voice, soon followed by the other stringed instruments creating a dulcet stream of notes. Piccolos and flutes …show more content…
The woodwinds let out unpleasant screams, the basses coughed and scoffed at the woodwinds with short irritating shoves of the bow, and the violins sang with uncanny cries, which penetrated the audience's ears. The violins kept chasing each other resulting in more and more fingers flying around and scrunching up on their fiddles; the small boxes of wood blared out to the rest of the orchestra, causing chaos with notes and bows jumping off the instruments and into the air. The tension increased and drifted in the atmosphere as the storm of notes kept accumulating in front of the audience, waiting for its release by the slight whisk of the small white baton.
Slowly the storm and flood of notes quieted down by the re-entering of woodwinds presenting the arrival of the river melody for the last time. A rush of sounds from the other instruments began, ignoring the gloomy aspects it portrayed in the earlier parts, depicting an imaginary river with perfect flow and …show more content…
Slowly, the song turned into the whispers of two young children--quiet but joyous in the inside.
The conductor stopped the sound with another flick of his baton, letting silence overtake the hall again. Emptiness overtook the hall, the absence of motion and sound expanded through the whole room. He slowly lifted his baton for the final time, squeezed the wooden stick with all of his remaining might, then struck his baton, cutting through the air in front of him. The orchestra chanted together for the last time, with a more fragile yet warm and engulfing color of sounds. The baton stayed still, almost frozen in place, to let the tender sound fill the ambience of the audience.
More silence filled the hall after the last ring by the low strings, until the conductor finally released the hold, dropping his baton down by his sides, letting the performers to lower their bows they flung up at the last note, and letting the applause reach out and congulate the performers on their creation of the