Jimi

Jimi

At last the music ceased. It seemed like a bastion fell all at once revealing a man somewhat smaller than you would imagine could create such a fortress of sound. Nodding his head in a polite bow, he looked quite proud, almost like he was presenting himself as some sort of rare wildflower to a beautiful girl. He was indeed an enigma of sorts. There always hung about him a mysterious haze as though the music within his very soul was vaporizing into mid-air. His hair was a tangled mass of musical notes created but yet unheard, his overcrowded skull forcing them out. His ears heard not notes but symphonies. His eyes saw not people but beings of musical splendor. His voice spoke not quietly, but hummed softly like a church bell pelted with grains of sand carried in the wind.