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One sudden horrific moment shifts the entire trajectory of Atlas and Errol's lives, handicapping both young men in ways they could never have expected. A sculptor without his sight, and a piani...
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I couldn't wipe this stupid grin off my face, no matter how hard I tried.
I knew it.
Hendrix probably knew it.
And The Company's director we were both sitting in front of, definitely knew it.
It was a grin that had crept its way onto my face anytime I traveled back to the events of yesterday.
I had spent all morning into the afternoon with Atlas. Once again, time ceased to exist just like the last time I entered that small yet quaint studio.
It was like walking into a casino in Vegas, with no clocks anywhere to remind you of the time. I guess the exception was that there were windows in the studio, but with the rain storm that settled outside those walls, and dark clouds that accompanied it, you couldn't tell eleven in the morning from four in the afternoon.
Then there was the piano I found. A Stenway Traditional K-52 just abandoned in a random storage unit. Once I noticed it behind some stacked chairs, I literally couldn't believe my eyes. She was dusty sure, and definitely out of tune, but none of that mattered.
I had gotten so excited with the find, I didn't even think to ask Atlas about it until I had wheeled the heavy thing into his studio. Of course it was only after the intense manual labor, did I realize how ridiculous it was to just take a piano. I couldn't help myself though, my fingers wanted... needed to feel those well crafted keys against their tips.
I started to play a song from one of my favourite self composed pieces. One of my mothers favourites too. She had pitched my work to the foreign play writer years ago, after having read the early drafts of the script when she was still in college.
I wasn't sure how the mother had gotten her hands on the unpublished work, nor how she convinced the french writer to then take a chance on some american composer all those years later, but my mother had that charm about her. She could probably convince a pig to fly, or Nick Cannon to commit to celibacy.
The play was a somber one, and when I recieved the script for the first time, I realized my previous assumptions of my mother had been incorrect. She had only given me the sparknotes of the script when she proposed the deal to me, informing me that Un Voeu Sur, or A Wish Upon was about a man who got himself caught up in the wrong crowd.
I originally assumed this was my mother trying to teach me a lesson for almost getting expelled from college with the rowdy friends I had made my last year. She honestly never forgave me for playing with my very expensive education like that.
Once I finally read the script, I understood I couldn't have been more wrong.
The story is about a standard corporate man, working hard at his office job to try and climb ranks within his company. He's dealing with bouts of serious depression and lonliness, not understanding how to engage with others around him. He has his coworkers that he first decides to get closer to, mainly out of convenience, and as he does, he realizes just how depressed they are too. It's a story of self realization, that even while being surrounded by entire office staff, everyone was just operating on sadness and being lonely together.
