Musical Soirée

A special report from Swedish journalist Kandinsky Beaumont.

Once upon a time on Mt Whitney the sound of delicate tunes broke the winter silence.

One of these beautiful afternoons at the landingspot of Kandinsky´s Mount Whitney Lighthouse were it snows only inside the pergola.1294512_752868894788005_2861605235215780022_o

My dear friend and neighbor Cat and I had been to Apollons Blue Tuesday club and listened to some jazz and blues. We rested now in my winter cottage and the only sound we heard was from the comfy sparkling fireplace and our friendly soft voices.


A strong bump and an ice crack noise from the outside scared away the Cat. I did not worry, my place is a regular landingspot for flying houses.


It was my other dear friend, SaveMe Oh, who came for a visit with her just staged musical performance. She brought her grand piano and her herd of pigs. The clinks from the piano mixed with the grunts from the pigs. Such innovatory and original music!


More audience showed up. I had some difficulties concentrating to the music as this man, whom she had put in some restraint, showed up. Maybe it was an experiment to force him to really listen?


Her song was utterly beautiful. We all gathered closer by hearing this miracle.


I was so moved, my tears flooded the place and threatened to drench all of us


The army of men rushed to save us and she turned to the organ for her next song so my tears dried completely. My severely insane penguin found an interesting friend.

The concert ended in a crescendo when my old school telephone started to ring amidst the organ tunes, the evening star jingled, the army of saviours mumbled, my iron whale closed up snorting. The sound picture was a magnificent mirage and we all went to bed completely exhausted. Was it real or was it just a rehearsal?


One thought on “Musical Soirée

  1. Things happen only when I am away. This is very suspect again and feeds my natural paranoia. And …. what? Naked males in quantity? I hope some of them will still be there for the next time I log on my land. Or at least some interesting bits.

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