Devil's Music

A very beautiful man, wearing a white medieval men's dress and sandals on his barefoot, sang in the beautiful voice of the comedy behind the girl.

Like a giant whirlwind with a small, long tail on the ground, the reality of grief is much larger than you know. But the roots may be as small and insignificant as the tail of the whirlwind you see. Do not be deceived by the great whirlwind that covers your eyes, for sorrow can reveal its small roots with the silver tones of music.

As the sound of a string instrument's voice echoes onstage, Norman's face is cold sweat. Surprisingly, Carlos had his back removed from the couch and his eyes wide open, holding the front seat tightly in his hand. Norman wipes the sweat off his forehead with his hands and shakes his head, looking at the sweat on his hands.

“You surprise me every time, Kay. I was curious about the role I would play in the opera... but the role of music itself... is even more amazing than the role of gods, demons, and angels.”

Carlos nods as if he agrees with Norman's muttering. Suddenly, his eyes are wide open and he speaks in a trembling voice with his finger on the stage.

“Th-then all these lyrics were written by that 10-year-old boy? ”

Then Norman opened his mouth thinking about the level of lyrics and the age of Kiska. A black girl walks around in a sudden voice as if she can't see the gun on the stage. The girl tilting her head as if she didn't see anything began digging again, and the stage lights slowly darkened, and the voice of the woman in the tent echoed.

“1940. So that was the year I turned 13. ”

In front of the house where the stage lights were on and collapsed again, the young girl's brother left the house with a big bag, followed by his parents and the girl. My mother gave me a son to leave, and I cried, and my father hugged them tightly. The girl standing alone and looking at him took a step forward, and began to sing with a loving face while looking at the audience.

If God asks me what your wish is,

I'm going to ask you to come back safely.

If God asks me, what is your second wish?

I will ask you not to let another terrible war happen.

If God asks me what your last wish is,

I'm gonna ask my little family to live happily ever after.

After the boy waved his hands and left, his parents looked at the back of the boy for a long time, and as they entered the house, the girl who was left alone lifted a branch and drew his face on the floor.

I want our country to be the most beautiful country.

I don't want my country to be the strongest.

It breaks my heart to invade.

My invasion will be painful for them.

As the light darkens again, a woman's voice is echoing behind the tent.

“The world has always tried to frame the brave. The voice of conscience against the shouting of the crowd has fought as long as its history has. And me and my family had to lose our brothers and sisters for a long time. ”

One or two Americans stared at the girl sitting alone, then knocked on the door of the house. The mother who opened the door with a happy expression, wondering if her son had come, saw the soldiers who were making aggressive faces, and she fainted, and the father who followed her hurriedly accepted her and saw the American army. My father, who was just looking at the American soldier with shaky eyes, shed tears, and the soldiers who were not looking anymore moved away. My father, who was holding Mother who passed out, opened his eyes and sang in a rested voice, looking up at heaven.

Do you exist?

Why do you come before me as a wall of grudges?

Are you playing the rhythm of cursed destiny?

Why don't you stop playing it!

Why did you take my son?

When can I and my family laugh?

The audience who saw the singing father on his knees, supporting the fallen mother, and groaning began to steal tears again with a handkerchief. By the time everyone had noticed that the people sitting in front of PCs all over the world were crying together, the stage was lit again.

The Chief Secretary of the President, who was exhibiting inconvenience at all times, looked to Herald Winston's side. Because it was clear to him that the devastation of the war in this performance would somehow affect Herald Winston's decision as he pushed the hardship on the North Korean nuclear problem. Without saying anything, Herald Winston focuses his attention on the stage, elbow-to-elbow tapping his ball with his fingers.

The chief secretary drops his head toward Herald Winston and speaks in a gentle tone.

“It was a long time ago. It's not a missile war, it's a war era that strikes directly. And that's what America is now, Mr. President, because of that history. ”

Herald Winston sits back and shakes his hand.

“Later. Now I want to focus on the show. ”

The chief secretary looks uncomfortably at the stage as he straightens to approach him. The voice of the woman in the tent on the stage trembles as if she is holding back her tears.

“Music reappeared to me when I thought there were no sparks left in the ashes, after the flames of hope had completely burned away. ”

A 15-year-old girl comes out of a collapsing house wearing a sock on her side. There seemed to be no hope on the face of a girl whose face was full of tiredness and tiredness in life. The girl who was squatting on the rice paddy in front of the house, working with a hoe, suddenly sat on the floor and stared up at the sky. When the void and emptiness were floating in her desperate eyes, the gun appeared behind the house.

The gun holds out its head, observing the girl, and slowly approaches her back, avoiding any footsteps. Her mouth opens as she looks down at the girl above her head looking up at the sky.

Your faith is your thought.

Your thoughts make sense.

Your words will be your actions.

Your actions become your habit.

Your habits are worth your while.

Your worth will be your destiny.

"There are seven sins in the world. Effortless wealth, unconscious pleasure, personal knowledge, unethical commerce, human science, uneducated politics... and the last prayer without sacrifice. My child, nothing can be accomplished without sacrifice. Your dead brother is not a sacrifice. Don't waste your time. Give yourself five minutes a day to work from sunrise to sunset, even if you go home and fall asleep. The five minutes you sacrificed in the blood of life's poverty. That's sacrifice. Pray through sacrifice."

The gun quietly lowers its hands to cover the girl's ears. The girl staring at the sky was dumbfounded, and she closed her eyes as she felt the gun's hand. The gun sings, looking down at the girl with warm eyes.

“There is music to shake the grass, the stream, the sound of the wind tickling the ears, and the sound of grass worms crying. Feel the comforts of crumbling music reaching deep into your little heart, girl. ”

As the sing-sounding, monologue-like voices echoed through the opera house, the sounds of nature that seemed to have an acoustic effect began to resonate. The girl closes her eyes, smiling and slowly raising her hands as if she were directing the sound of nature.

I took off my hand, which blocked her ear, and stepped back, and the gun disappeared into the darkness, and the remaining girl smiled and was left with an elongated hand.

“I was born in a poor house, and I was a poorer teenager. Studying for me was a dream story. But the sounds of nature that music gave me led me to dream. From that day on, I climbed the mountain every day and began to sing with nature.

And there I met him. ”

As the whole stage began to spin, the audience began to concentrate again, soon after realizing that it was a frequently used stage background in theater. The stage was completely backwards, filled with high mountains and hills with lawns and flowers. When she was about eighteen years old, she took a flower in one hand and ran around the mountain with a happy smile.

The sound of the wind touching the leaves

The sound of water in the valley

When you put yourself in the voice of nature with an empty heart,

It's so peaceful.

It's so peaceful.

Thank you so much.

Dreams will come true.

Otherwise, nature would have

You wouldn't have made me dream.

A gentleman in a suit who was staring at a girl singing in the mountains came closer to her. The gentleman, Carlos, raises his eyes, fingers and whispers to Norman.

“It's OK, isn't it? I'm wearing a suit this time. ”

Norman nods.

“Looks like a solo double. Or music is a form of human beings. ”

“Oh, so there's a single person playing multiple roles in the opera, too? I thought it was just a small play. ”

“There are, but they don't come out often. It seems like a genre that requires singing, because if one person plays multiple roles, it puts a lot of pressure on his body. ”

After a short conversation, the two of them saw the stage again. A neatly dressed figure gives the girl something to say, and behind their appearance is the sound of a woman's voice hidden in her tent.

“His name was Geoffrey. He made a lot of money running a car factory in Detroit, and he said he'd been watching me singing in the mountains for days. He came to my house and convinced my family to put me in the right institution. After hearing a promise from a stranger to support my tuition and living expenses, my father allowed me to study with unbelievable eyes. ”

Her voice echoes with a slight tremor.

“It was a long, long time after I learned that the hidden meaning of his name, Joffrey, was' powerful guardian. ’After receiving the tuition, his car factory came to him thankfully, where only a few grasses were left in the barren desert. No matter how hydrogenated we were, we couldn't find a rich man named Joffrey in Detroit. ”

Standing alone in the middle of the stage in a suit, the voice of a woman who was silent for a moment echoes again.

“I'm sure. It was the music that allowed me to study music at that time. ”

Standing in the middle of the stage, he smiled at the audience.

< 234: Her Last Show (7) > Ends

case: 21185