Post by limbo on Jun 16, 2008 19:32:39 GMT -5
Today was the first day since they’d rearranged seats in this choir room. Most of the students were pleased to move, especially the ones sitting next to Ilsa von Lange. Ilsa couldn’t quite understand because they always seemed so grateful when she pointed out they were singing the incorrect notes. Perhaps it was for the best – it wouldn’t be beneficial to anyone to sit next to the same person all year long. However, as healthy as change could be, Ilsa was not satisfied with the company she was now forced to share. The girls who sat on her sides had terrible posture and their attention seemed to be directed somewhere other than Cloud Nine Concert Choir. The young woman on her right was constantly talking to another plump Soprano in the row back. The conversation was frivolous, and it concerned the sexuality of Ilsa’s troublemaker of a brother, Adam. The two obviously did not realize the relation between Ilsa and Adam.
It took nearly five minutes for the choir director to settle the students down. Ilsa was already sitting tall and her music was in her hand. Lousy students couldn’t care less about making progress in music – they preferred skipping notes and pretending to be prepared for concerts. It made her ill to think that this was the top choir of the school. She vowed that she would not be one of those ungrateful students.
Ilsa's back was perfectly straight. Her eyes were locked on the music, following every note carefully, including the accompanist and her own Soprano notes. The voices around were melodic and graceful, but breathy and hardly attractive. Unfortunately, Ilsa knew she was definitely not one to talk. During music lessons, the choir teacher had actually cringed when Ilsa hit a high note that was off by a few half notes. Well, it wasn't her fault - these songs the choir director had chosen were just impossible! No one could sing them.
And beside her, while the Sopranos made their melody known, a voice so pure resonated through the choir section. It was a string of gold twisting itself through the disorder of the many voices and tied them together to compliment each other. Startled at such a beautiful sound, she whipped her head to the side to stare at her neighbor.
It took nearly five minutes for the choir director to settle the students down. Ilsa was already sitting tall and her music was in her hand. Lousy students couldn’t care less about making progress in music – they preferred skipping notes and pretending to be prepared for concerts. It made her ill to think that this was the top choir of the school. She vowed that she would not be one of those ungrateful students.
Ilsa's back was perfectly straight. Her eyes were locked on the music, following every note carefully, including the accompanist and her own Soprano notes. The voices around were melodic and graceful, but breathy and hardly attractive. Unfortunately, Ilsa knew she was definitely not one to talk. During music lessons, the choir teacher had actually cringed when Ilsa hit a high note that was off by a few half notes. Well, it wasn't her fault - these songs the choir director had chosen were just impossible! No one could sing them.
And beside her, while the Sopranos made their melody known, a voice so pure resonated through the choir section. It was a string of gold twisting itself through the disorder of the many voices and tied them together to compliment each other. Startled at such a beautiful sound, she whipped her head to the side to stare at her neighbor.
