MannyFae and the missing violin

Up the path and out of the spring. To go to Barcelona and find the missing violin. Down passageways that chanced upon the sectrets of catching wind. Down corridors where the leering gargoyles grin. In courtyards where carven mystic saints mouth frozen prayers. Stone and mortar mix with shadows and the old iron creaks and moans. The first violin played like a secret flame of a dream caught inside my pillow. In one moment it sat like a beastie, stroking my hair, wispering stories of old. In the next moment it violently tore at my neck revealing long sharp bleeding teeth. In haste and anguish the bow would suddenly loop through liveley melodies as if it could apologize for entering my very soul like a splinter. The second violin came like a professional pickpocket running on the wind with long lanky legs. He would stop only for the briefest moment, revealing a long serpentine smile, a flash of gold, and a wicked rolling wink. To catch him was impossible. At any given moment he could disapear down a pothole spending weeks in the underbelly the city on the fumes of opium and embalming fluid. The third, the lightest of the three, came from behind the veil of a magican. Light and slender,hidden in the shadows. Perched on a silver cresent moon, flying from constellation to satelites. Feet never touching the ground. I was carried closer to the pulse of the earth then ever I was before, but always left to my own devices coming back down. This violin too dispeared singing through a swinging shadow under the filmy guaze of nite.