I thought only I heard the music. I thought its melodies were just mine.
When I sliced a neck, and heard not the gurgle of blood frothing in the jagged smile, but the wail of a guitar bending up through the octaves. I thought I heard that alone.
I know the thrumming bass note was mine, and only mine, that time I played it on a chest, flexing under my hammer blows.
Also, the piano sweep of a throat constricting under my hands. The clatter of snare drums as my fist crashed on cartilage, again and again. Those were private recitals, for my consumption only.
Even the screams were, for me, a high choral note, full of operatic tragedy. I cried each time, thinking I had no one to share them with.
But now here you are, watching me conduct, swaying to the theme. And I know you can hear it too. And my solo just became our duet.
About the author
Sami Shah is a multi-award winning comedian, writer, journalist and broadcaster. His urban fantasy Boy of Fire and Earth was published by Picador, and he’s published horror and fantasy short stories in several anthologies. You can visit his website or follow him on Twitter.