Well, the most perfect evening of my year has just passed. I spent a rewarding day at work, good work all day, kept me throughly entertained. Managerial in the morning, then some proper labouring in the afternoon. Busy little bees. Any how, just enough time to return home, and make the miraculous transformation from Snorks, the labourer in to Snorks, the evening man. I enter a dirty dishevelled worker. A quick shower, ten minutes later all suave in my 4 button single breasted suit.
I collect her from her house, comfortable drive to the Opera House, with a suitable amount of time before the performance for a couple of lovely glasses of shampoo. She is looking absolutely stunning tonight. I comment that there is no-one I would rather be with tonight, she concurs. I am at a loss still for the correct behaviour. Regardless, we move in to the concert hall, where our perfect seats are waiting for us. Elevated, yet quite close to the orchestra. We are about to experience the Sydney Symphony perform Adams, then Beethoven's 9th. There is a nervous excitement between us, the first session passes without incident. Her fragrance washing over me in delightful waves, while we absorb the ambience of the concert hall.
A spectacular intermission, the Sydney skyscape is putting on a performance of its own tonight. A breath-taking sunset across the harbour bridge and buildings, a warm breeze. The enchanting hues of the sky accompanied by champagne and chocolate.
The intermission is too quickly over, where upon we return to the hall. The anticipation can be read on the faces of both of us, I have waited years to hear a full choral version of this piece performed live. As the piece begins, our hands naturally find their counterpart. Excitement transmitting through our very skin. Repetitve, spine tingling waves embrace me, as I hoped they would. Stilll the memory of it sends shivers.
We adjourn to the bar afterwards, speaking little. In a make believe world, I will not have to return her soon to her beau. We speak of life, love and theory for a while, stare longingly at the stars. A night not easily forgotten. Happy birthday
I collect her from her house, comfortable drive to the Opera House, with a suitable amount of time before the performance for a couple of lovely glasses of shampoo. She is looking absolutely stunning tonight. I comment that there is no-one I would rather be with tonight, she concurs. I am at a loss still for the correct behaviour. Regardless, we move in to the concert hall, where our perfect seats are waiting for us. Elevated, yet quite close to the orchestra. We are about to experience the Sydney Symphony perform Adams, then Beethoven's 9th. There is a nervous excitement between us, the first session passes without incident. Her fragrance washing over me in delightful waves, while we absorb the ambience of the concert hall.
A spectacular intermission, the Sydney skyscape is putting on a performance of its own tonight. A breath-taking sunset across the harbour bridge and buildings, a warm breeze. The enchanting hues of the sky accompanied by champagne and chocolate.
The intermission is too quickly over, where upon we return to the hall. The anticipation can be read on the faces of both of us, I have waited years to hear a full choral version of this piece performed live. As the piece begins, our hands naturally find their counterpart. Excitement transmitting through our very skin. Repetitve, spine tingling waves embrace me, as I hoped they would. Stilll the memory of it sends shivers.
We adjourn to the bar afterwards, speaking little. In a make believe world, I will not have to return her soon to her beau. We speak of life, love and theory for a while, stare longingly at the stars. A night not easily forgotten. Happy birthday
posted by snorks at 9:10 pm
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