Dirty Little Secrets

(First appeared at the online publication, Doublestop Magazine, November 2007)

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

 

The first time Montserrat saw David St. Pierre was in September of 1987, in London, where they’d both recently commenced their studies at the Royal Academy of Music. He’d just stepped out of the Academy’s front double doors onto the sidewalk of Marylebone Road. She saw him standing there in the golden afternoon light—a slim, handsome American who’d already drawn international attention on the violin, following his third-place win in the Paganini Competition the previous year. For a moment it seemed as if the world around them paused before adjusting its course to orbit around him instead of the sun.

When Montserrat saw him in Matthew Nakamura’s San Francisco apartment, twelve years later, so unchanged, it took her back so viscerally, she stumbled. Which was fitting, given that it had been her reaction on Marylebone Road, as well. She’d had to swing her arms wildly to correct her balance, eliciting snickers from the students around her. “That stupid rug,” Matthew said now, reaching out a steadying hand, “it curls up at the edge and keeps catching on people’s shoes. I’m so sorry.”

To read more... http://www.doublestopmagazine.com/2007/dirty_little_secrets/

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