Girl in the procession re-examines his life

Suddenly, a cannon shot thundered echoed in the night air. The device of an outbreak, such as increased high in the sky darkened and then disappeared.

Suddenly, a silent explosion with a flash of light produced a dazzling constellation of stars fleeting. The ignition device for a moment the Kingston landscape with breathtaking displays which was followed by a boom in distance. Another device burns fired into the night sky followed by explosions of red, white and blue sparks glowed in the dark of night.

"Ahh …," expressed the great multitude of wonder.

The sky over Willow Park was radiant with a barrage of radiant colors of another fifteen minutes. The holiday display, the crowds he felt endless and more larger than last year's event. When the fireworks ended with the grand finale, the crowd began to march. The Thompson family, including Bridget and Grant, did their way home.

"Mr. Thompson … Mrs. Thompson," Grant gratitude prayed, "I thank you both for giving me the opportunity to spend the day with you. "

"It was a pleasure," said Madeline.

Jacob felt remorse for his violent behavior with boy, but frowned when he extended his hand before the issue went away. Elsa subsidy was accompanied through the front yard, and beyond the black iron gate.

"Elsa, thank you for a wonderful time with you and your family."
Elsa smiled demurely. It was wonderful, he meant.

"That means-II would be possible for me to call back?" Asked Grant nervously.

Elsa stopped, not to respond when her eyes broke contact with him and stared for a moment. She really wanted to say no. But could not.

It was too good to be a gentleman rejected. Perhaps nothing will come of this. Elsa glanced back to Grant.

"Yes, you can call again," she agreed reluctantly.

Grant smiled wide as a deep happiness full of it. "Well, Elsa, I do not want to go. "They shook hands with joy, for a while. The warmth of his grip as he pressed her soft skin ran through his body. It feels wonderful, romantic. Grant released her hand and stepped back. Still smiling, she turned and left.

After the crackling sound of car disappeared into the night, Elsa came into her house and closed the door. My journal, he said.

"Elsa, my dear, would you like to join us to read in silence for a moment before retiring to bed?"

He entered the living room. "No, thanks, Mom," she said with confidence.

"Do you have a good time?" Asked his mother, the desire for knowledge.

Jacob turned his eyes toward her daughter.

Elsa did not respond. "Well, do you, dear? "Her mother repeated.

"Yes, mother," said Elsa in a tone rather flat and hollow.

Madeline smiled tenderly at her oldest daughter. She had hoped to hear more.

"Mother, I go to my room. "

"Well," replied Madeline, still smiling.

"Good night, Elsa," his father said firmly.

Elsa approached his father and kissed him on the cheek. "Good evening, father.

Elsa walked toward the stairs when a curious Bridget, say goodnight, smiling from the kitchen. Elsa wanted to talk about the day, but would have to wait until morning, he said.

"Good night, Bridget" Elsa replied with a gentle smile in return. The pianist lifted her dress above her ankles and retreads on the stairs to her room. Closing the door behind it, sat on his desk and stared at the series of palm-size figures displayed on the shelves of his room. As she examined the details of his treasures, his heart told him he had a lot to resolve, knowing the day was lit with the young hot impressions in his mind. The procession will complicate my life, she asked the reason. Elsa sighed and redirected his gaze to the dark night. The sound of crickets filled the air like a cool breeze drifting through open your window. My journal, he said again.

Elsa took off daily desk drawer and reflected on fireworks night.

July 4, 1915
Today was really romantic.

While meditating, eyes are dazzled in a deep look, while the pen was temporarily inactive hand. He continued writing.

The park was more beautiful than ever, fireworks filled the air with excitement. Grant shared by both his family and his past. The deep love for their grandparents made me feel warm and comforted. I've never met so many private details about a child. No, he is a man, an intelligent and compassionate young and handsome.

Suddenly, a chill interrupted her and turned his pen idle again. Elsa imagined standing at the crossroads of his life, every path has its own destiny.

One of the roads that branch-right, presented her world poetic unencumbered by the uncertainty of courtship. Determined and tenacious, which follow the position of a music teacher. Your time is precious solitude remain without threats, and stayed comfortably alone with his thoughts and his music.

The other road forking to the left mean the young man who had intrigued so their. However, much of his solitude would be dissolved, being diverted to the rights of the procession. Embarking on this path would lead to who knows what final.

This thought frightened her. Elsa knew that if they do not take control of these issues that would face a struggle. His intellect, the guardian of his soul, "he said she must terminate this courtship. He noticed how she had become intoxicated emotional spell of a lover at the time of sunset.

His life was poetically sophisticated and well structured. Romance might be too poetic. But the romance could also become a monster. "Yes," he said, stay in my safe, global organized to stay away from the shore.

How do those things I can think about romance? I have no time for courtship or love. My studies need for attention. A music teacher is what I dream to be. That's my plan. Should not deviate from that plan. Love can wait!

(Excerpt from The Silence Note reprinted with permission of the author, Patrick Davis).

(Originally published in GoArticles and reprinted with permission of the author, Patrick Davis).

About the Author

Patrick Davis was first introduced to the magic of storytelling through filmmaking. Knowing the Dynamics of Story Structure, his inspiration and talent is admired in his first novel, The Silent Note. Patrick is a mentor to other writers. He lives in San Diego, California. To learn more go to
The Silent Note
.

Open Mind / Part 2