Opus OneChapter 11 Andante
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"So what do you think of the piano sound?" Dave asked Richard.
Richard stood up from Jarrett's chair in front of the speakers. "It's really rich. I'm used to hearing this piano from the piano bench, so it sounds a little different. But still nice. Really nice."
"Good. I'm happy with it too. Man, I just love this concert hall. Jarrett, what do you think?"
"Smooth work, Dave. Let's record some so Irina can hear it," Jarrett replied.
Richard sat in his chair, to Jarrett's left, and double checked that the tapes were cued and ready. "I'm ready to go," he announced.
Jarrett pushed the button on the talkback microphone. "Irina?"
"Yes?"
"We will record a sound check. Please play for a few more minutes and then we will listen."
Richard started the tapes and wrote the take information on his log sheet, while Jarrett did the same. Dave sat in Jarrett's seat one last time and closed his eyes as he listened to the sound of the instrument.
So far, the recording session had been hard work, but lots of fun as well. That afternoon, Dave had rented a truck and Richard had helped him load up road cases with the needed equipment. The hall they chose for the recording was only twenty minutes from the conservatory, but the equipment would have been impossible to transport in a car, so the truck was chosen.
Since Richard had only worked in the Wexford control room, which was permanently set up, it was interesting to see how the recorders, speakers and microphones were all connected from scratch. Richard gained new appreciation for Dave as he explained why he set things up a certain way. The microphone preamps were set up on the stage, for example, which Dave said made for a quieter noise level.
Upon arrival at the hall earlier that day, Richard had been surprised to see Irina's piano, the one on which he took his lessons in her studio at the conservatory. The old worn instrument had been delivered earlier in the day, and had been tuned up before they arrived.
Richard figured that Irina was most comfortable with this instrument, but the piano also sounded incredible in the hall. Once the microphones were up and working, Dave had had Richard play the piano so that Dave could start working on the microphone placement. Freed from the confines of the small room at Wexford, each note sang out purely, supported by the reverberant space. Richard quickly lost himself in the playing, only snapping out of it when Dave would come out to adjust the microphones or preamp levels.
"That's great playing Richard. Maybe we should record you!" Dave said.
Richard chuckled modestly, and offered his assistance with the technical aspect of the setup.
"Nah, just keep playing," Dave said, waving a hand.
Once Irina had arrived, things became more businesslike. Dave stressed to Richard the importance of keeping the artist happy, and that meant being invisible as much as possible. Dave did say that having Richard play earlier had sped up the setup process significantly, and he was appreciative of that.
As Irina played for the sound check, Richard wondered if they'd really need all five evening sessions. It seemed like a long time just to record an hour of music.
When Irina finished playing, he paused the tapes, and cued up the main tape so Irina could listen to the playback. There seemed to be so many things to remember, what with the time sheets and playbacks and levels. I hope I don't screw this up!
Irina made the short walk from the stage to the makeshift control room, and Jarrett invited her to sit in the listening chair. When she was ready, Richard started the tape. While Jarrett and Dave took turns standing behind Irina, Richard sat still in his seat, not wanting to distract his teacher.
Irina listened closely to the sound check, and then nodded when it was finished.
"Yes, that is very nice. But something is not..." She paused.
"Yes?" Dave urged.
"I don't know what it is. What do you think, Richard?" Irina asked, turning to him.
"I like it," he said, concealing his surprise at having been asked his opinion. "On that last playback, though, I was wondering if there was a little too much ringing. Some parts seemed slightly washed out. Like here," he said, flipping to a spot in the score.
"Yes, that is what it is," Irina said slowly, nodding thoughtfully.
"I didn't know if it was the pedal or something," Richard said.
Irina frowned. "I could change that, but here I do not use the pedal and it still sounded that way."
"Let me make a microphone adjustment," Dave said. "It may be that the sound has a touch too much reverb from the hall. We can try it and listen to it."
Richard followed Irina and Dave out to the stage. Irina sat and played again, as Dave moved the microphones slightly lower and closer to the piano.
"Play for a few more minutes and then we'll listen."
Richard hurried to the control room to start the tapes, not needing to be told.
After Irina finished the same section, the verdict in the control room was that it was an improvement.
"Is that better?" Irina asked, as she came in.
"Listen and see," Dave said evenly, not wanting to color her opinion.
Irina smiled and sat in the chair. Again she listened intently.
Dave had explained the importance of getting the sound just right to Richard as they had adjusted the microphones and settings for the past few hours. Any regrets would be easier to fix now rather than later, he had explained. Richard was glad they were getting close to having things set.
"Excellent," Irina proclaimed as the section finished. "That seems to help, and I also will be careful not to overplay on those parts. I think that this is even better than our last CD."
"Good!" Dave said.
"A short break, and then we'll begin?" Jarrett suggested.
"I am ready now," Irina countered.
"Even better, then!" Jarrett said.
Richard took his place, and readied the tapes as Jarrett flipped the score back to the first movement. There was a sudden optimistic excitement in the room, as the session prepared to start in earnest.
"Richard, if you hear anything amiss, just say so," Jarrett said. "Don't be shy."
Dave laughed from his chair on Jarrett's other side. "Yeah, Jarrett needs all the help he can get!"
Richard tried not to laugh, out of respect. Even Jarrett chuckled a little, however, so Richard did as well. Dave and Jarrett were very laid back, and constantly cracking jokes. Even Irina seemed less formal at the session, Richard thought. Then again, we haven't started recording.
After checking that everything was ready for the last time, Dave gave Richard the go ahead, and he started the tapes. Jarrett checked with Irina to see that she was ready, and then spoke into the microphone again.
"Sonata, movement one, take one."
Here we go, Richard thought, a rush of excitement flashing through him.
Being tired from the first two late night recording sessions didn't mix well with Dr. Dobra's class, particularly with Richard seemingly called on to sing every in-class sight singing example.
While Dobra usually spread the torture around the class, keeping meticulous track in that annoying ledger of his, this week he had been focusing only on a few students. Richard noted with some disgust that he was in a select group that included Ethan Deerfield, who came to class about fifty percent of the time, and usually late at that. Richard had no idea how Ethan was still in the class.
Richard groaned as Dr. Dobra called him to the board.
"I guess it's 'Pick-on-the-class-retards' week," he whispered to Sandra, as he slowly got up.
She just offered him a sympathetic smile.
"Richard. Please write up on the board what I play on the piano," Dr. Dobra said.
Richard grimaced, tempted to write up 'What I Play On The Piano'. While the class would probably find it funny, he doubted Doberman would.
Usually everyone was allowed to work at their desks and then put up their work when called on. It was only when Dr. Dobra felt like making an example of someone that he had them go through the whole process in front of everyone. If he wasn't so tired, Richard might have been angry.
Despite a general fuzziness in his ears from the hours of intense listening the evening before, he made sure to listen carefully to the starting note and key that Dobra offered. Not doing so was deadly, as he had learned on his midterm.
Unfortunately, Dobra chose a difficult example, and Richard struggled with the melody. The three plays of the melody flew by before he could grasp at the notes. His memory of the tune faded quickly amid thoughts of sleep.
Blinking and looking at the board, he stifled a yawn as he tried to fill in the gaps in what he had written.
At last, he put the chalk down. "That's all I can do," he said.
Richard didn't have to look at Dobra's face to know that he wasn't impressed.
"I see," Dobra said simply. "Sandra, can you help Richard out?" he called to her.
Sandra came up to the board, and picked up the chalk from the tray. She gave Richard another sympathetic look, before fixing and completing the melody he had started. In a few places she hummed to herself, checking an interval or rhythm. She didn't even bring her paper up.
Richard didn't even know if she was right. He had forgotten the melody already.
"Yes, yes. Excellent, Sandra. You even caught the triplet rhythm there, yes," Dr. Dobra praised.
His tone of voice with her is always so different. Bastard... Richard thought.
Dobra stood a moment longer admiring her work as if it were a fine painting.
It's just a fucking dictation, man!
"This is the type of thing we will be seeing on the final," he announced. "It's a little trickier than what we've been doing so far, so please examine it carefully. We will have a quiz next week. See you on Wednesday."
As Richard and Sandra started towards their seats to collect their things, Dr. Dobra signaled to them.
"Richard, Sandra, I need to speak with each of you for a moment. Er, do either of you have class right after this?"
"I don't," Sandra said.
"I do," Richard said.
"Would you mind waiting outside while I speak with Richard first?" he said to Sandra.
"Sure," she said.
Richard felt his stomach knot up. Richard stood idly while the class exited the room. At last the door closed and all was quiet.
Dr. Dobra turned from his ledger and looked at Richard seriously.
"I won't keep you long. I am strongly recommending that you find someone to help you with your ear training and sight singing. I never see you come to my office hours. Your performance since the midterm has not been that great."
"It's only been a week," Richard said. "I'm working on it."
Dr. Dobra seemed to see through Richard's words. "Only a week ... Only ... How many weeks are left in the semester, Richard?" Dobra made a show of counting the vertical lines in his ledger. "Five. In five weeks, you will be taking your final. I think you should consider the importance of each week that passes. You are running out of time."
Richard just nodded. It was all he could do to stay on his feet. "I'll find someone to work with. Maybe Sandra can help me."
Dobra frowned. "Perhaps. But you should probably choose someone who is..." He paused, and then waved his hand vaguely. "I am giving you as many opportunities to practice in class as I can. Clearly, you need to put more time in than that."
"Okay, I will."
Dr. Dobra gave Richard a long stare, and then nodded. "Please tell Sandra to come in, when you leave."
Richard gathered his things, and then left the room without a backward glance.
Sandra stood up from the chair she was waiting in. "Everything all right?" she asked, concern on her face. Richard's face was drawn, and his eyes were heavy.
"Um, not really. He says I need to get help with ear training. Sounds like if I don't get my act together I'm not going to do well in the class. As in not pass the class."
"Oh no. Do you have to go to his office hours?"
"No way!" Richard said quietly, showing what emotion he could muster. "Let's talk later. You better get in there, or he'll be pissed."
"Okay. I'll see you after your English class?"
"No, I'm cutting, and going to go sleep. I'm about to pass out."
Sandra looked at him for a long moment, and then caressed his arm. "Okay."
"Come find me after you talk with him," Richard said.
"You'll be sleeping."
"No, you probably won't be in there long. Just come, please?"
"All right, I will."
Sandra smiled and slipped into the classroom, closing the door. Dr. Dobra was seated at the piano, playing some chords.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked, approaching the crook of the piano.
"Yes, Sandra."
"Is it about Richard?"
Dr. Dobra frowned. "Richard? No, no. It's about you. I was really impressed by your dictation skills today. Well, all semester really, but today's example was challenging, for sure. You seemed to have no trouble with it."
"I guess."
"You're too good to be in this class. I wanted to see if you were interested in moving up to the higher level class I am teaching."
"Um, I don't know. Don't I need to take the four semesters consecutively?"
Dr. Dobra smiled. "No, not necessarily. Did you take a theory placement exam when you came to audition?"
"I think so."
"Odd. They should have placed you in a higher class from the start. Well, it doesn't matter. You could still move up now, if you want to. You would finish your theory requirement a year earlier, which means you could go on to higher levels, or pursue other classes. It's a good idea; I strongly urge you to consider it."
"But ... won't I be missing a year of the basics?"
"I don't think you need it. Here, let's try something, just to be sure. Write down this melody. Key of A flat, in four-four."
Sandra hurried to the board and translated the details into music symbols.
"First note is middle C."
Dr. Dobra played a melody. It was longer and much more complex than the example from the class, and at first Sandra felt a little lost.
Instead of rushing to guess at the melody, though, she considered it carefully in her head. She replayed it, feeling the intervals and how they led through an imaginary accompaniment.
Dr. Dobra watched carefully. "Do you need more time before I play it again?" he asked, after she hadn't written more than the starting note.
"No, I just need to hear it once more."
Dr. Dobra nodded and played the melody again. This time it clicked for Sandra and she started to write. In a few moments, she had the first phrase notated. The second phrase started the same way, but then ... She needed the third listen.
Dr. Dobra played it once more, and Sandra finished writing the melody on the board. He watched as she put the last note in place, and nodded slowly.
"Hmm..."
"Is that even close?" Sandra asked.
"Oh yes, very close. There is just one mistake. Completely trivial, but you forgot a flat on your key signature."
Sandra frowned, and then laughed. "Oops." She added the fourth flat to the staff.
"Which is, of course, irrelevant," Dr. Dobra added, his voice excited. "Amazing. You are completely wasting your time in this class. That's an example of the melodies we do in fourth semester theory classes, and the students in there find it difficult."
Dr. Dobra sat at the piano again, with some excitement. "Here, try this harmonic dictation. Er, B-flat. Four-four. Four voices." He looked at Sandra with narrowed eyes.
"Um, okay, I'll try, but..."
She drew out the double staves with clefs and two flats on each, feeling a little nervous.
Dr. Dobra played the progression slowly. Sandra split her listening up between the voices, trying to capture the music and transform it into a chorus singing their parts. The bass part rises there, contrary to the melody ... The inner voices are in parallel here ... Ends on the ... five chord? Yes, there's a lack of resolution...
"Is it too..." Dr. Dobra began to say after she stood still for a long moment without writing anything.
"Shh!" Sandra reacted before thinking. "Oh, sorry!" she squeaked, realizing she had just shushed a teacher.
Dr. Dobra waved her apology away and pointed to the board eagerly.
"I need to hear it again," she said.
"Well, of course!" Dr. Dobra said, and he played the chords again.
Sandra began to write. It was like she had a chorus at her command inside her mind. She told each section to sing its part a few times, and she merely copied down what they sang.
Dr. Dobra rose up from the piano bench slowly, and stood by her side as he watched her place the notes along the staff.
Sandra felt a little strange with him standing so close, but she finished the notation, filling in the last few gaps in the inner voices.
Dr. Dobra was speechless for a long moment as he examined the work. At last he turned to her.
"You've never had theory training?" he asked quietly.
"No."
"You got it right," he said simply. "I don't know how, but with only two listens, you got every note correct, even here. Do you even know what this chord is called?" he asked her, pointing to the penultimate beat.
"Um, no. I guess it's ... F-sharp seventh?"
Dr. Dobra laughed gently. "Well, yes and no. I can tell that you haven't had training. You have the notation of someone who has not been trained. Which is to be expected, of course! But your ear is exceptional."
"So if it's not an F-sharp seventh, then what is it?" Sandra asked, ignoring Dr. Dobra's praise.
"It doesn't matter for now. The terminology will be something you need to learn. But in a way, you don't need it."
"What do you mean?" Sandra asked.
"Many people learn to recognize things through the terms they have learned. We spend weeks at a time here at Wexford drilling into people what this and that chord, interval, progression, et cetera, is ... What they sound like. The hope is that they when they hear that same chord later, whether on the final exam or in their careers, they will say, 'Ah! A such-and-such chord! I know how that fits in this key.' And then they can spell out the notes."
Dr. Dobra pointed out the chord they had just been discussing. "Most students in my fourth semester class will hear this progression, and recognize that there's an augmented sixth chord there. Then they will back out, and think of which notes spell an augmented sixth chord in this key. They'll write it down. Sometimes ... But there's a big separation between the music and the product, see? Since they learned exactly what an augmented sixth chord means, once they recognize it, they don't need to hear the individual notes. So in a way, they are regurgitating things from rote and repetition."
"That's not really what I did," Sandra said slowly. "I don't even know what that chord is."
"Exactly! Which shows me that you have a really good ear. It makes sense that you are a singer, since you wrote down everything in melodic fashion, rather than each chord at a time."
"I guess I do hear these things as melodies that are intertwined," Sandra said.
"Yes, yes. Now, I think with a little extra catch up work, you could easily skip two semesters of theory. Basically, you just need to learn some of the conventions, and then you'll be right on track." Dr. Dobra said. "Ahead of track, to be honest," he added, pointing to the board.
"Like what conventions?"
"This chord we were talking about should really have a G-flat in the bass, rather than F-sharp."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Sandra asked, frowning.
"Ah, no. If you were singing in the key of C, would it be the same if all the Cs were written as B-sharps? Same note, of course, but..."
"Hmm. I guess ... But in this case, the note isn't even in the key, so how do you even decide?" Sandra asked.
"I know, Sandra," Dr. Dobra said, chuckling. "In some ways, the music transcends all this nonsense. Like I said already, you don't really need it. Terminology serves to bridge the gap between music and notation for us lesser mortals. But it also serves to let us talk about music on common ground. As you encounter more complex music, terminology can make a difference in interpretation. A C-sharp going up is not the same pitch as a D-flat going down, unless you play the piano."
"Mmm..." That made sense to Sandra, from her singing experience. She took a deep breath. "So would I switch classes now, or next semester?"
"I think now would make sense. Otherwise you will waste your time here for another month. Are you free from three to four during the week?"
"Um, yes, except Friday."
"Perfect. The class runs Monday through Thursday."
"Oh ... So it's twice as many classes?"
"No, no, you'll switch out of the analysis class too. They go hand in hand. I think that is the class where you will actually need to make up more ground, since it is more technical in nature. You'll need to learn the chord names and inversions and such. I don't anticipate any problems at all in the ear training and sight singing class."
"Oh, okay. How will I make up the material, though?"
"I'll be happy to meet with you weekly to catch you up on what you need. A little work now, and you will save yourself a year of theory classes," Dr. Dobra said.
"What about the final exam?" Sandra asked. "I mean, I only have four or five weeks. All the material will be new."
Dr. Dobra smiled. "Don't worry about the final. I'll take into account the switch, of course. Besides, five weeks is a lot of time. I'm sure we can cover plenty of ground in that time."
Sandra nodded. "Wow ... So do I need to do anything with the registrar?"
"I'll go down there now and switch you over, so don't worry about it. Just come to class here at three instead of one, from now on."
"And what about meeting for review?"
"Let me look at my schedule and I'll let you know tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Good. Are you okay?" he asked.
"It's a little overwhelming," Sandra admitted.
"Don't worry. You will be fine. I promise," Dr. Dobra said.
Sandra pushed the door open to her room. Emily was at her desk, working out chord progressions.
"Hey. How was class?" Emily asked.
"Fine. Dobra picked on Richard again."
"That sucks. Is Richard all pissed off?"
"No," Sandra said. "He's sleeping. I just went to his room, and he was out cold. Too many late nights at the recording session."
"And not with us," Emily lamented. "But I know how much he wanted to do this, it being his teacher and all."
"So Dobra wants me to move up two semesters in theory classes," Sandra announced.
"Really? That's way cool. How did that happen?"
"He gave me a little test after class, and then offered. He said I was too advanced for first semester theory."
"That's pretty sweet. You'll be done with theory after this year then. Wish I could do that!"
"It's going to be work, though. I have to learn all this extra stuff I'll be missing in the jump."
"Still, you take a year of those classes off your requirements."
"Yeah, that's what Dobra said too."
"Richard will miss you, though," Emily said. "Sounds like you're the only reason he still suffers through the hour."
"Yeah, I thought of that," Sandra said with a sigh. "But Dobra said I was wasting my time, and if I switch now, I can get credit for the upper level class right off the bat. Well, I'm going to go practice, so we can hopefully all eat dinner before Richard heads out to the recording tonight."
"I can move downstairs if you want to practice in the room," Emily offered.
"Nah, I'll go find a room in the building. Thanks, though. See you later."
Richard wiped the sleep from his eyes as he tried to figure out what that noise was. As his ears opened up from sleep, the whooshing sounds became soft raps on his door. He glanced outside, surprised to see that it was getting dark. He shot up in panic, worried that he'd slept through the time when Dave was going to pick him up.
"Who is it?" he called frantically, peering at his watch as he pulled his pants on.
"It's us!" Emily said.
Luckily there was still a half-hour until he was meeting Dave in the lot.
"Dinner time," Sandra added.
"Coming."
Richard threw on his shoes, grabbed his keys and stumbled to the door.
"Good morning," Emily said cheerily.
"Yeah, right," Richard said. "I wish it was morning. I still feel beat."
"You probably need some food in you," Emily said, and pulled him out of the doorframe.
"I thought I overslept."
"We wouldn't let you do that!" Emily said.
"Oh. Okay. Thanks."
"Come on. There's not that much time."
Richard nodded and followed the girls to the stairwell. On the walk to the cafeteria, he noted that Sandra was rather quiet.
"Sorry I fell asleep," Richard said to her once they had found some food and a table.
"You looked like you needed it. I figured you'd be out before you hit the bed," Sandra said.
"Yeah, I was. Man, this recording thing is a lot of work! Mostly we just sit there and listen, but it's still intense. I have to concentrate to make sure everything gets notated, and the tapes are working, and Jarrett also has me helping him keep an eye on the music, and ... Well, I've told you all this already."
"Are you still enjoying it?" Emily asked.
"Yeah, it's really interesting," Richard said. "It's a little hard to see the final product, just because there's so much jumping around covering different sections of the music. It seems like a weird way to record, but that's the way it's done, I guess."
"You seem really tired, though," Emily said.
"I am. I could barely stay awake in Dobra's class today. Hey, what did he want with you?" Richard asked Sandra.
Sandra hesitated a moment. "He wants me to move up to a different class."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He thinks this class is too easy for me."
"Hmm. Are you going to do it?"
"I think so."
"Oh no! You're leaving me alone with him?" Richard exclaimed, trying to laugh.
Sandra slumped a little. "I know, I know. But he thought I should move to the third semester class. I'd finish my theory requirement a year earlier that way."
"Third semester? Whoa! How are you going to learn all the stuff you are skipping?"
"He's going to help me learn it outside of class."
Richard frowned at her. "What?"
"Like in office hours. He'll teach me what I need, from the two semesters I am skipping."
"That sounds weird."
"Why?" Sandra asked him.
"Because he's doing nothing to help me. But with you, you know..." Richard shrugged dramatically.
"With me what?" she pressed.
"I don't know. All I remember is what Jenna said about him and pretty girls."
"You think he's doing this because of that?" Sandra asked, frowning.
"I don't know. I mean, either you're ready to move up, or you're not. But now you have to have all these teaching sessions with him? Sounds like he's up to something. Do you think you can handle the material, anyway? That's a lot of stuff you have to cover. Just today he was telling me how little time is left in the semester."
"He promised that I wouldn't have to worry about the grade on the final. He said he'd help me out."
"God, that sounds like such a set up!" Richard said darkly.
"Richard, come on! He thinks I can do it," Sandra said. Her voice was a bit heated. "I don't see why you think this is about my looks."
"How come he's only nice to you? He has this total reputation for being a dick. Everyone knows it. Everyone says he's got a soft spot for good looking female students. I mean, what happens when you get to the end of semester and you can't do well on the final? Is he going to get weird on you? Blackmail you for a good grade?"
She watched Richard open-mouthed. "I can't believe this!"
Emily was quiet until then. "Richard, maybe you should..."
"Emily, stay out," he said. "I just think this is a bad idea. It just seems really convenient for him. I don't see Jonathan, or whatever his name is getting asked to move up, and he does just as well as you in class."
Sandra was distraught. "Richard," she pleaded.
"What? I'm just saying ... It sounds really weird."
He took his last bite of food. Emily was just looking at him. Sandra appeared on the verge of tears, as she fidgeted with her utensils and stared at her plate.
"I just think it's strange," he added, a little less excited. "That guy is a dick. I don't trust him."
"Maybe if you spent some time actually working on the class material, you'd feel differently," Sandra said quietly.
The moon was overhead when the first hint of eastern glow touched the horizon. Jupiter was close by, accompanying the hemicycle as it fled from the coming sun. Closer to the earth, strains of music tentatively began to sound; quiet hours were coming to an end. All around, the Wexford dormitory was stirring. The banal sounds of students trudging to the restroom to bathe were merged with the footfalls of early risers, who were already headed to the conservatory to find a better practice...
I stand on the edge of the horizon and I recognize her- the woman in the mask. She does not cry or mourn and she pretended not to notice me. It started a month ago and I just can’t seem to get it out of my mind. It was an echo of a rat-a-tat sound of falling rain on a tin roof, a cycle that seemed to repeat itself over and over again. I had been here before but I had a feeling that once I left- I would never, ever, return. The phone rang and I answered it- even then I could tell she was...
Irina Tertychnaya mostly thought in English now. She wasn't sure when the change had happened. She found it amusing that in the twenty years or so that she had been at the Wexford Conservatory, she had changed her internal language, and yet her accent was as thick as the day she first stepped foot through the glass doors of the school. Marrying an American artist probably helped the change; she no longer spoke Russian other than the occasional chat with Yuri, the principle bassoonist of the...
Seven-thirty came too soon. Richard fumbled for his alarm, at last silencing the wretched noise. He was about to doze off when he remembered the morning plans, so he sat up quickly before he lost the battle with the snooze button. Jer wasn't in his bed. Weird. He doesn't seem like the early rising type, Richard thought. Bathroom? After Richard showered and put on some clothes, Jer hadn't returned, so Richard just left a note saying that he had to take off. Richard hurried down the...
When Richard got back to his room that evening, Jer was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. "Where have you been, man?" Richard asked. "Huh?" "I thought you were coming into the city with us this morning." "Oh, yeah, I forgot I had a lesson," he said. He sat up and rubbed his face. "At six I woke up to take a piss and remembered. So I went to practice." "Close one." "Yeah, I guess," Jer said dismissively. "Would've sucked if you missed your first lesson." "Nah....
Movement I. Practice was difficult for Richard the next morning. Besides having somewhat of a headache, he had trouble finding a practice room. The piano in the one he finally secured was mediocre. It sounded somewhat muffled no matter how he tried to coax any tone out of it. Usually he could have dealt with the limitations of the instrument, and made progress on some technical passages or finger work. But unfortunately his mind was continuously drifting off. The events of the previous...
Richard thought his heart had stopped. To his right, Emily was watching him with a slight grin, and in front of him Sandra was looking at him like she was about to collapse on the bed. It was hot in the dorm, but that hot? Suddenly Emily pushed Richard into the room. Richard turned to her and watched as she reached to close the door. Is she leaving me alone with Sandra? he thought, as Emily stepped back out into the hallway, pulling the door shut. "Emily, wait," Sandra called out as the...
Sandra poured the last of the second wine bottle into Emily's glass. She thought it would help slow Emily down, but she seemed to get better at playing games the more she drank. The game of choice for the evening was admittedly puerile. Emily had voted for Trivial Pursuit. Sandra had voted for Spit. She was in the mood for something less cerebral, and mention of it the night before had stuck with her. Richard broken the tie in Sandra's favor. After the vote, Emily rolled her...
Richard woke up quite late, and he was the first to stir. For a moment, he was startled by his location. He figured he would have gone back to his room last night after a brief snooze. Instead, it was late morning. Emily was still beside him, but Sandra had moved to Emily's bed and was sleeping soundly. Richard grinned as he saw the remains of the evening strewn about the room. Playing cards were scattered on the floor, clothes sat in little piles, and two empty wine bottles stood on the...
Dr. Eugene Dobra was everything rumor made him out to be. He walked in at exactly one o'clock. Richard and Sandra had just found two seats in the back corner together, hardly having greeted each other when he asked for silence. "Take out some staff paper," he said. He sat at the piano in the front of the room as people shuffled through their bags for the paper. Richard borrowed a sheet from Sandra. When the rustling and whispering had settled down, Dr. Dobra nodded. "Please write...
Only one hour, forty-three minutes and thirteen seconds to go. This job sucks! Richard took his watch off and flipped it face down onto the desk. Otherwise I'll just be staring at the fucking thing all night. Strains of music drifted into the lobby from the practice rooms on the lower floor. Trumpet lines, repeating endlessly, were punctuated by bursts of percussion. The bright fluorescent lights overhead hummed slightly. He wished he could dim them; they were making his eyes...
(A few days later... ) Fuck! Not only had Jer been obliviously loud when he woke up to go wherever the hell he went, but now Jer's alarm was going off. And he was long gone. Rock music was trying to squeeze out through the small speakers of his clock-radio. Did he not see me sleeping in my bed? Fucking idiot. Richard felt around on his desk, found a hefty book, and lofted it across the room. It hit the radio with a clunk, and for a moment the thing spat a curse of static at him....
Allison was falling in love. Over the last few hours of being with Emily, Sandra and Richard, she had started feeling something she hadn't felt for many years. It had always been there, but now it was thrust into the forefront of her thoughts. As she drove her rental car back towards the city, she took a glance at Richard. He looked tired as he stared out of the passenger side window at the dusky fields. Allison cast her mind back to a warm summer day eight years ago. "Allison, look,...
"I'm going to do some theory homework down in the lobby," Emily said to Sandra. The two of them had just returned to their room after seeing Allison to her car. Richard was stopping at his room for a moment before coming up. There was talk of getting together again with Allison, but she was flying back to Melbourne in a few days. In case it didn't work out, they had said their goodbyes. Allison had seemed sad to leave them, but she had to get up early to start some...
Irina took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. It wasn't that he was doing something wrong, but rather that he wasn't progressing like he should. This was his fourth — no, fifth lesson now, and over the last few weeks he seemed to be less ... prepared. He had gained some expression in certain aspects of his playing, but technically he seemed underpracticed and a little sloppy. She had checked with Eric in financial aid to see that Richard was not somehow being asked to work too much...
Richard had a dull headache. It was the last thing he needed today. He was late to his meeting with Dave, having fallen asleep after turning off his alarm. Five minutes ago, he was supposed to take his last training test. If he passed, he would be ready to record student recitals on his own. As he ran down the stairs, buttoning his shirt, he paused on the second floor landing. I did say I'd come find them for breakfast, he thought. He really didn't have time, though, so he continued down...
"Those are some big speakers!" Sandra exclaimed, as they entered the recording control room. Richard grinned. "So size does matter then?" he asked suggestively. Emily and Sandra just gave him a look before peering through the window to the concert hall. A cellist was practicing with a pianist. "Wow, the view is really good from up here!" Emily said. "Yeah. It sounds good, too," Richard said. He flipped on the power amplifiers and then brought up the faders for the hall...
"Valery, get the door, will you?" Boris bellowed from his office upon hearing the bell ring. Valery took his time as he wound his way through the stacks of furniture and frames. Reaching the front entry of the shop, he pulled open the heavy door and then spoke across the bars of the security gate. "Can I help you?" Valery said. The man smiled slightly. "I don't speak Russian." "No English," Valery replied. "Eh ... name?" "Harvey Mitchell." Valery held up his index finger to...
Richard was in the middle of practicing sight-singing for his midterm exam when someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" Sandra pushed the door open and came in smiling. "I got our recital slot!" she said excitedly. "Oh, sorry, are you studying?" she asked, noticing the open book. Richard folded it closed. "I guess. I'm done though." "Are you ready?" Richard shrugged. "It's sight singing. Who the hell knows? It depends on what he picks." Sandra nodded. "You usually do all...
Richard was painfully nervous when he knocked on Sandra and Emily's door. He heard talking as he leaned close to the door, but there was no answer after he knocked. Only silence. "Sandra, Emily. Open up, please. I need to talk to you," Richard called through the door. There was another silent moment, and then Richard heard the door unlatch. Emily pulled it open, and slipped out into the hallway. "She's pretty upset right now," Emily said quietly. "I know. I feel really bad. I...
Emily woke up suddenly out of a miserable dream. The quiet of the darkness was loud in her ears. Where am I? She tried to flex some of the tension out of her crooked-feeling body. Stiff muscles complained at being asked to relax. For a few moments, she was still in her dream. The horn studio had been filled with people practicing right next to each other, each playing louder and louder to hear themselves. She was looking for someone. She couldn't remember who that was, after a while, and...
"He's actually going to come," Emily said distantly, as she replaced the receiver. "Oh, that's great!" Sandra chirped, giving her a little hug. Richard just smiled through a mix of emotions. Every positive thing would help Emily. It was easier to smile than he thought. Last night, when he had reached the point where he had to decide what he would do about Emily's confession, he was distraught. It would have been so easy to give in to the feelings of disappointment and betrayal that...
"I can't believe finals are just a week away," Richard said, as he walked to the conservatory building alongside Sandra and Emily. "I know. This semester just flew," Sandra agreed. "That also means we're just a couple of weeks away from break," she added, pouting. "I know. Too bad we can't find an excuse to all stay here," Emily said. "We thought a few days at Thanksgiving was tough..." "I'll probably be coming back a week before classes start," Richard said. "Really?"...
The morning was bright and quiet when Richard woke up. The muted sound of a car passing made him wonder if it had snowed over night. From the kitchen, he heard his dad answer the phone. He couldn't figure out who it was at first. When he heard him talking about music, he realized it was Sandra. He considered getting up, but decided to wait for the phone to come to him. He checked his watch, surprised at the lateness of the hour. I guess I have to get up, he realized. He made his way out...
"Surprise!" Richard stood in the doorway, dumbfounded. His mouth moved, but he made no sound. Then he ran out and hugged her, lifting her off the ground and swinging her around on the patio. When he started feeling dizzy, he let her down gently and kissed her long and hard. She giggled when he finally let her breathe. "Happy to see me?" "Am I ever!" "Told you I was sending you something." "But ... How did you get here?" "My dad had some business at Lincoln Center. He chose...
"Bob, come away from that goddamn thing!" Betty called out from the back door. "Just another minute," he said. "The light is on again." Bob grinned as he heard Betty's footsteps tapping across the patio stones. "What's happening?" she asked. "Nothing yet." "Let me see," she urged. Bob moved aside. "Lights out," she said, straightening up. Bob crouched down, confirming her observation. "Oh well," he said, and started putting things away. He turned to find Betty...
"So what's the plan for this weekend?" Emily asked, startling Richard. She had been napping. Richard looked up from Emily's desk. Sandra was also stirring. He had imposed a mandatory nap the last few days, since sleep had been minimal. It was appearing to work, since moods were shifting towards the positive over the past few days. "Well ... Arlene gets here tomorrow..." Richard said vaguely. "We know that!" "Sorry. My head is still in this chord analysis." Richard closed the...
Sandra took another drink of water as Mr. Menlos reprimanded another hapless student for not cueing her in during the aria. After forgetting Mr. Menlos's instructions about being strict to the conductor's indications, Sandra had finally started being particular about following all cues. She would enter incorrectly when given the wrong beat, and not enter at all when the cue was missed. Between that, and the thrill of singing with an orchestra for the first time, she was enjoying herself...
Richard shook himself out of his stupor as he saw Emily taking Sandra into her arms on the floor. "What happened?" Emily asked repeatedly, but Sandra just stared off wildly in shock, breathing in ragged spurts. She was barely able to breathe, let alone talk. Richard picked up the phone from the floor. "Cosa sta succedendo?" his father asked, coming closer to Sandra. Richard ignored him. "Hello?" "Hello? Who is this?" the voice asked urgently. "This is Richard." "Oh, Richard...
Gary Menlos scanned the rehearsal room from his usual back corner spot. "Mark," he said, nodding his head at the principal cello player. "Go ahead. Take it from the beginning." Mark set his cello aside and walked up to the podium with his baton. Gary waited as Mark flipped the score back to the first page. He looked around again, surprised at the turnout. A number of string players had shown up for the practice orchestra. He had hinted yet again, at the last full orchestra rehearsal,...
Richard was grinning ear to ear as he stood next to Sandra and Emily in the green room. The audience had been larger than any of them had expected, and so was the crowd that lined up to greet them. Many Wexford students had come, including the violinist Jeff, for whom Sandra would be conducting in the fall. As promised, beside him was a mischievous looking friend who asked her to conduct for his recital as well. Sandra politely declined, eliciting a victorious fist from Jeff. Richard grinned...
Octopus man was a freak or nature. A very strange freak of nature. When he was born he was normal. Two arms, legs and a normal body. As he became older he discovered a strange and scary power he possessed. When he became aroused he turned into a horny eight tentacle octopus monster. The mere thought of fucking a girl could cause him to grow eight tentacle arms. The arms could grow to whatever length he wanted. They were strong. Each one capable of lifting a woman by her leg or arm...
Introduction: He looked around for new prey….. What girl would you want to be ladies? I like the jogger…..hehehe–(guys what girl would you do?) Octopus man was a freak or nature. A very strange freak of nature. When he was born he was normal. Two arms, legs and a normal body. As he became older he discovered a strange and scary power he possessed. When he became aroused he turned into a horny eight tentacle octopus monster. The mere thought of fucking a girl could cause him to grow eight...
The next day Nancy took a ride around the plantation. She did not walk, of course, since she was the young niece of the owner. It would not be proper for so close a relative to expend energy by physically walking. She rode instead, being pulled along in a small carriage. The carriage was an import from China. It was small, only able to carry one person at a time, and had traditionally been used as a taxi in the crowded city streets of Hong Kong and Beijing. It was powered by a single beast...
It started one Saturday morning during summer vacation when I woke up to noise in front of my house. I looked out my bedroom window and saw a moving van parked in front of the Martin's house although I guess that it wasn't really the Martin place any more. They had moved out months ago and there had been a For Sale sign in their yard for a long time. I noticed that the For Sale sign was gone and men were carrying furniture into the house. Then I saw a girl about my age (10) watching the...
SWEET SHERRI By Brett Lynn "The fuck you want," the girl hissed through her teeth. Well, it's hard to say. For one, this was the one night of the week at the particular club that was tranny night. Unless the lucky woman was either a straight freak or had been exposed to the scene, there weren't too many people walking around with a double dose of X chromosomes. Two, the girl hissed while staring between her legs with hooded eyes knew who she was. She had just finished a set...
Author's Notes: I want to give thanks to my editor. She has made this story easy to read. It was the beginning of October and that meant one of the days which Dean Drabek hated the most was coming up, Halloween. He despised that day, along with the day before Thanksgiving, New Year's Eve, and St Patrick Day, for all the same reason; they were amateur night. He loathed the thought of going out on those nights. He knew he had to for his girlfriend, Heather Van Slyke, would want...
Background: You're a bachelor in your late twenties, Jack Delaney, who has been working dead-end jobs from city to city, ever since you broke up a couple of years ago with your superheroine ex-girlfriend Cosmic Girl. "Cosmic Girl" is the alter ego of Ilana Bellamo, who was sent to Earth from a distant planet Zebulon over 250 years ago. Under Earth's conditions, Ilana quickly developed supernatural powers including flight, energy manipulation, telekinesis, telepathy, and others. She has the...
Fantasy“So, this is pretty sweet, ain’t it?” Angelica asked both Shawn and I now, as we each enjoyed the root beer float that she made with French vanilla (just to be different or a joke at Shawn’s expense?). “Almost as sweet as your pussy and ass. I suppose that I’ll have to content myself with eating the latter from now on ... and this, of course,” I winked at her. “Oh, I think that you can both still LICK both holes ... just not FUCK both of them, okay?” Angelica winked at us now. “Good,...
"What can I do for you, Mr. Edwards?" I asked, as I motioned for this parent to take a seat. Mr. Edwards had asked for a late night meeting, and the school was deserted. I closed the classroom door, and adjusted my shirt before taking a seat beside him. This shirt had a tendency of slipping sideways, letting my ample DD cleavage show. Mr. Edwards is just the kind of man that makes my heart beat a little faster. He is over 6 feet tall with dark chocolate skin, a beautiful smile, and strong...
InterracialI headed out of Ronny’s house and back into the borrowed Jeep with a new destination. I drove a few minutes down the road before pulling over and rooting through the glove box, hoping for a map. The map I had gotten when Renata and I had left Miami was with the rest of my stuff, abandoned in that motel room when Renata was grabbed. I was happy to find this guy kept a map of Florida in his Jeep. With my face plastered on the news telling people I was a kidnapper and a murderer, I wasn’t...
Schwärze. Bewusstsein. Das Wissen in der Dunkelheit zu schweben. Aus einem Zustand von Nichts, das plötzliche Bewusstsein zu Sein, und einen Zustand zu erleben den man definieren konnte. Sie erwachte. Mit dem Erwachen kam ein Kopfschmerz der zuerst den Schädel zu sprengen drohte, dann aber langsam verschwand. Und mit dem verschwinden des Kopfschmerzes kam die Erinnerung. Sie war Dana Katherine Scully, Special Agent beim Federal Bureau of Investigation und Partnerin Von Fox „Spookie" Mulder. Sie...
Hi friends, indru kathaiyil en appavin nanban ennai eppadi oothar enbathai ungalidam pagirugiren. En peyar vasantha vayathu 19 aagugirathu, naan thinamum kama kathaigal padipen, indru en kathaiyai inaiyathalathil pathivu seiven endru en kanavil kuda ninaithu parka villai. Vaarungal tamil kama kathaikul selalaam. Enaku intha vayathile iru mulaiyum perithaaga pazhuthu irukum, soothu gumunu irukum. En appa nanbar adikadi veetirku varuvaar, avar peyar Prabu, parka azhagaga irupaar. Naan avar varum...
Still not quite steady on her feet, and increasingly aware of her bizarre situation, Fay started to try and get her head back together. Her piss-wet panties and socks were now cooling and clammy on her skin, her bottom cheeks and upper thighs were stinging dreadfully and her face and breasts were covered with a mix of tears and snot. Andy offered her a tissue which she used to wipe her face as she walked over to her discarded bra and vest and restored a semblance or decency to herself. She...
It's Wednesday, 9:30am. You've been working at Glassman-Strauss since Monday, mainly filing invoices, sealing envelopes. For a temp, it's all been pretty standard work at a pretty standard desk in a pretty standard office. You've been temping for the last 3 weeks, a fallback after you lost your job in a round "streamlining". Apparently your post was "beyond to the vision of the business model going forward." Whatever that means. You spent about a month sitting on your ass. In that time, your...
It's a few hours before opening time at Duke's. Rita and I are going over plans for a 75th birthday party we're throwing a week Wednesday night. Sal Harper is one of our favorite regulars. A retired ACLU attorney, she's sassy, spirited, and needle-sharp, with a bottomless supply of stories about the city's queer history. Besides that, she's made herself Duke's unofficial mother hen, giving out advice and support to any of the stray kids that wander in looking for a glimmer of solace. Both of us...
LesbianDue to some requests, a picture file has been added here https://chyoa.com/chapter/Pictures.464992 additional pictures will be added over time. Your name is Lisa Carter. You're an extremely attractive young woman, twenty-three years old, working your way through college. You're about 5' 5", very curvy, with full ripe breasts and firm shapely thighs. Your pretty face is framed by long dark hair, and you've been told your smile lights up the room. Your body gets you a lot of attention from men...
BDSM"Nervous?"Natasha smiled softly, "Would you hate me if I said no?"Maria returned the smile and wrapped her arms around Natasha from behind, "I could never hate you Nat."Natasha smiled, "Well, isn't that cheesy."Ignoring the dig Maria pushed, "Seriously though, are you still ok with this? Because we can still cancel-""God no! I want this." Natasha said firmly, spinning around in Maria's arms and looking her girlfriend in the eye as she continued, "I've wanted this for so long, and now I finally...
The strident ringing of the phone jerked Hailey out of her day dream and answering it she heard the voice of Harry, the kennel manager ooze out of the phone, "All set for your first performance?" "I am not sure," said Hailey hesitantly. There was a slight harshness in Harry's voice as he replied, "If you don't want your husband to see the video of you and your family pet together you had better do the show like we agreed." "What's the point," said Hailey, "Once all those people...
Cameron related the story of Raven’s capture to Wayne as they raced his motorcycle in the fading light. It was difficult to have a conversation over the noise of the bike but Wayne seemed to get the picture. Raven was gone, kidnapped by the same people that had tried to kill Cameron. He had to be careful what he told Wayne. His joints still ached from nearly getting pulled out of their sockets by Wayne’s steel ropes, the same ropes he knew were coiled under Wayne’s jacket. Explaining that he...
Introduction: I wrote this when I was seven… I was a weird child. So here is a story I found that I wrote when I was seven years old. Apparently I was just as perverted then. The writing isnt very good, so I fixed some grammar, but most of it is exactly as it was! I hope you enjoy the story! Also there were drawings to go with it. Private message me if you want them. ___________________________________________________________________________________ Suzy Franklin was twenty years old. She had...
The house trembled from its shingles to its foundations, struggling to withstand the unholy force erupting within. A scream echoed down its halls and burst through its doors and windows, every molecule of air expelled from the victim’s lungs while his face became beet-red. It was two sounds mixed together, his own pathetically human cry of agony and desperation, and the enraged howl of the beast fighting for control. “Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, Saint Michael the Archangel,...
Copyright © 2003 We finally decided to meet. After months of e-mails, private chats and playful instant messages. We decided on a public place, no pressure, just a dinner with friends. The tablecloth was heavy, either a cotton or linen mix, draped nearly to the floor. Four people could easily have shared the rounded booth where we were sitting, but only the two of us would be sharing the conversations that would take place there. As she slid into the booth, the tablecloth tangled around...
I never knew my dad.That's not an excuse for what I've become – and that's not to say I need an excuse – it's just a simple fact that some people find relevant when trying to examine what I've become.Anyway, he was killed in a plane crash before I was born. Technically, he was killed in a plane crash while I was being born, but he died without knowing that. He'd been overseas at a business conference when my mom called to tell him she was going into labor, and had boarded the first plane he...
This is the first of two parts. Part two is being lived at this time, and will be put to paper at a later date. Cindi's other writings include "Dalia's Story", "Rebecca's Peace", "A Texas Change", "Michelle's Story", and "Crossing Texas". This story, which includes explicit sex, is free to all who enjoy crossdressing. Those who are uncomfortable with crossdressing should not read this story. Alone in Paradise By Cindi Johnson, December 2004, Dallas Texas -1- ...
I stopped at my uncle's bar after work for a few beers. My cousin helped run the bar and we would hang out several times a week. Randy a friend of my cousin's came in whom I met before. We were talking and Randy asked if anybody knew where he could buy a few joints. I told him that a friend of mine usually had a small amount he always kept and may sell a couple. He lived out in the country and I drove him out there and he made the purchase of several joints. He asked if I wanted to smoke one...
Hello readers, hi my name is Gargi..( name changed).. This happened to me when i was doing my college.. Lalitha was my teacher during my schooling.. She is around 45 now.. but damn sexier .. She still maintains a 36/25/37 structure.. Right from my school days i fantasized fucking her .. But couldn’t.. when i was doing my 2nd year.. Her husband works in a hotel and will come once or twice (on 15th & 30th of the month).. Her son who is around 25 works in a call centre.. he leaves the house by 6...
Experi-Mental By Suzanne Fade In: The room stank of some sort of noxious paint odor. Nearby I could plainly see several large 55 gallon drums clearly labeled with the standard 'Haz-mat' stickers. If I had my glasses I could probably discern their contents based on the required codes. But since I was currently strapped to an oversized stainless steel gurney, that would prove difficult, and surely a waste of time anyway. I'm certain some explanation is necessary. However the...