There was a really good reason why music was such a large part of almost every religion, why singing to your children was so important and why there was an ever growing number of therapists using drums or music to help people. Music was the great connector, a natural bridge between cultures and people, timeless, ageless and in its purest form both artless and equal. ‘And I’ve decided to tell you my story helped by those present day philosophers, to borrow their words and their music, hopefully making it possible for me to tell you things I decided long ago to never tell a living soul…’ she added softly ‘In four weeks I will give you eight songs, and some words in between. Okay?’ I nodded and clasped my hands tightly, to prevent them from reaching for a pen and paper. I had decided to stop writing around her, mostly because the whole idea of her seeing my thoughts was still scaring me, sending me into a state of mild anxiousness, probably very like what she experienced in moments of. We’ll meet back together for dinner.” And with that my wife Diane pushed me through the adjoining room door and left the kids to their own devices. I slumped onto the couch, hearing my daughter Lily's voice teasing me about all the nude people on the beach. What have I exposed my sweet little girl to? "It's going to be fine, John," Diane assured me. "I was serious about what I said. The kids will really get to explore their independence. Jason needs the confidence and Lily...well Lily will just enjoy it." As she said this, she poured me a giant glass of whiskey and handed it to me. "Drink this," she said, with a slight command in her voice. I took the glass and gulped. "I can't believe the situation I've put everyone in. My friend from work takes his kids here! He had to have known." I took another gulp and felt the sting of the strong drink. "John," my wife called, but I was too locked in to my worries to even turn. "John..." I looked over and nearly spilled my drink. Diane had.
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