by scooter1914
Title:Feast of Silence
Author:scooter1914
summary:Grissom contemplates his possible hearing loss.
Challenge:Music challenge
I often get writing inspirations first thing in the morning. I don't know why, I'm so not a morning person. Anyway, I woke up this morning and this is what came to me. Make of it what you will.
3/12/06
Feast of Silence
They say it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. He supposed this could be applied to his hearing as well. After all, if he’d been born deaf, he would never have gotten to experience the simple beauty of Pachelbel’s Canon in D or Bach’s Prelude from the Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, or Boccherini’s La Musica Notturna Delle Strade Di Madrid. Or heard the exquisite soprano duet from Act One of Delibas’ opera Lakme, a song so hauntingly beautiful that even hearing it in the British Airways’ commercials made him misty-eyed.
And now, the doctors were telling him that he might lose all of this to an endless, empty silence? Somehow Gil Grissom was finding it hard to feel that he was fortunate for having ‘loved and lost’. He was frightened, more frightened than he could ever remember feeling. He had always lived a fairly isolated life, allowing few to get close to him, but this had been his choice. Now, it seemed that genetics and fate were ganging up on him, to impose even further isolation upon him.
And isolation, it was. He would be losing much more than just the beloved classical music that had always colored his life. He could learn to live without that. He could probably even learn to live without his career. He could always do other things, like write for the scholarly journals or even teach. No, the things that would be the hardest to live without would be the little things, the seemingly mundane and everyday things.
He would never again hear the song of stridulating crickets as they serenaded the gathering dusk or experience the full sound and fury of a sudden desert thunderstorm. He would also never again experience that mixture of affectionate annoyance at having to endure another one of Greg Sanders’ ‘jam’ sessions, or hear one Catherine’s motherly lectures about taking better care of himself. He would never again hear the comforting sound of Sara singing quietly to herself as she worked in one of the labs, or experience those rare occasions when Warrick would find a keyboard of some kind which had summoned his fingers like a siren’s call.
But mostly, he would miss the sound of his own name being drawled out by his lover, in that maddeningly sexy Texas accent... Oh yeah, that one was going to be hell...
Author:scooter1914
summary:Grissom contemplates his possible hearing loss.
Challenge:Music challenge
I often get writing inspirations first thing in the morning. I don't know why, I'm so not a morning person. Anyway, I woke up this morning and this is what came to me. Make of it what you will.
3/12/06
Feast of Silence
They say it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. He supposed this could be applied to his hearing as well. After all, if he’d been born deaf, he would never have gotten to experience the simple beauty of Pachelbel’s Canon in D or Bach’s Prelude from the Unaccompanied Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major, or Boccherini’s La Musica Notturna Delle Strade Di Madrid. Or heard the exquisite soprano duet from Act One of Delibas’ opera Lakme, a song so hauntingly beautiful that even hearing it in the British Airways’ commercials made him misty-eyed.
And now, the doctors were telling him that he might lose all of this to an endless, empty silence? Somehow Gil Grissom was finding it hard to feel that he was fortunate for having ‘loved and lost’. He was frightened, more frightened than he could ever remember feeling. He had always lived a fairly isolated life, allowing few to get close to him, but this had been his choice. Now, it seemed that genetics and fate were ganging up on him, to impose even further isolation upon him.
And isolation, it was. He would be losing much more than just the beloved classical music that had always colored his life. He could learn to live without that. He could probably even learn to live without his career. He could always do other things, like write for the scholarly journals or even teach. No, the things that would be the hardest to live without would be the little things, the seemingly mundane and everyday things.
He would never again hear the song of stridulating crickets as they serenaded the gathering dusk or experience the full sound and fury of a sudden desert thunderstorm. He would also never again experience that mixture of affectionate annoyance at having to endure another one of Greg Sanders’ ‘jam’ sessions, or hear one Catherine’s motherly lectures about taking better care of himself. He would never again hear the comforting sound of Sara singing quietly to herself as she worked in one of the labs, or experience those rare occasions when Warrick would find a keyboard of some kind which had summoned his fingers like a siren’s call.
But mostly, he would miss the sound of his own name being drawled out by his lover, in that maddeningly sexy Texas accent... Oh yeah, that one was going to be hell...