What is the sound of fifty people talking at once? Why do the voices,independent of each other, seem to rise in a chorus that will never be heard again? Where the voices rise and fall for just a moment in perfect harmony. Where you almost hear the instruments playing their counterpart.
The voices of young women rise and fall like a series of flutes, blasting forth in perfect unison. The laughter of older men, with gruff and deep voices like a bass, play an accompaniment to the flutes, adding a subtle undertone to this symphony. Sitting a distance away, the sounds fill the courtyard enough to make you feel like you are in the middle of the conversations, assaulted from all directions by this single moment.
Sitting in wonder, I hear moments go by unnoticed. The voices carry on, oblivious to the passage of time. They continue to play their beautiful music even when the sun hangs low in the horizon. They continue to play as the comforting twilight slowly embraces them. They continue to play, keeping their audience caught in their unintended concert. They continue to play.
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