The Big Book of Domination by D. L. King

Author:D. L. King [King, D.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2014-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Sight Reading

Alison Winchester

By midafternoon, the hallways are thankfully cleared of the children and their parents who come in for the community education classes. The only sounds he hears as he makes his way down the last few stairs to the basement level are the hiss of the steam through the pipes and the muted sounds of students practicing: brass and strings blending in a dulled cacophony. The lone computer lab on this floor is near silent, with only the shuffling of papers and occasional clatter of typing to reveal its occupants.

He knows exactly where she’ll be. Her favored practice area is a cramped little space just before the wide hallway narrows into twists and turns that lead past offices assigned to unfortunate adjuncts and the untenured, and finally to the elevator up to the concert hall and the classrooms. How she stands it with the sweltering heat of the pipes is anyone’s guess, but she told him once she felt cozy in there: just her and her cello, and the bonus of no loud trumpets or wallowing French horns on both sides of her.

Through the door, he can hear her going over a particularly tricky section, and he pauses for a moment, not wanting to interrupt her until she’s worked out the kinks. She plays through the measure seven, eight, nine times before it meets her standards and she moves on to the next. He takes a deep breath, needing to steady himself and get into the right mindset, before he opens the door. He knows exactly what he’ll find once he does. She’ll have stripped down to a camisole and one of her long peasant skirts by now. Her short blonde hair will be spiking in all directions from where she’s wiped sweat off her brow with her arm, not wanting to use either of her hands and risk contaminating either her bow or the cello strings. The taste of salt on her neck will be irresistible.

But he’s here to encourage her to take a break. To get some lunch. To relax. Not to simply screw her in a practice room like some horny undergrad.

He adjusts himself before he opens the door, hoping the smile on his face will disguise the overwhelming want.

To her credit, she’s grown so used to interruptions of all kinds that she continues playing without so much as a hesitation when he enters the room. It bodes well for her audition that her nerves are that steady, even if he does find himself a bit jealous of her cello these days.

“I’m still not entirely sure about the Bantock,” he says.

She doesn’t miss a beat as she answers, “Neither am I, but every last cellist there will be doing Bach, and I don’t need to be compared to Yo-Yo Ma on top of all the other candidates. If nothing else, maybe they’ll give me points for balls in making them look him up on Wikipedia.”

He snorts.

“Truth time, though: do you think it sounds too stark without the piano? That’s my biggest concern.

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