Little Black Notes

I'm a sucker for instrumental soundtracks.

Ever since the oh-so-corny, Titanic? Yes I knew every single beat to the tracks, including the lines.

Hans Zimmer.

James Horner.

John Williams.

Pierre Adenot...and

The little black notes.

They're powerful.

Subtle. Yet convincing.

Like shadows talking. No words. Just presence.

That it's there.

Sometimes, we just need people like that around us, don't we?

Just to let us know that they're always by our sides, even if they don't utter a single word, we know...they're there. Watching. Encouraging.

Maybe sometimes a few words of wisdom if requested.

Too much and the aura is bastardized.

How much do we need to talk, to be considered enough?

And when it's all talk, with bare minimum response, what is it?

Beats me.

Pfft.

PMS talking. Why isn't my period here.

Oh sorry, TMI?

Oh, it's Thanksgiving, you Americans.

Erm...I'd like to thank the person who invented music. The little black notes.

Thank you.