Writing Prompt – Carlos Kleiber -Beethoven symphony No.7, Op.92 : mov.4

Beethoven symphony No.7, Op.92 : mov.4


 He sat in the library, the roaring fire spitting into the guard. Beethoven’s 7th was playing on the gramophone and he began to conduct the frenetic orchestra. His arms flew with the music, pointing at his imagined orchestra to bring in new instruments.
“Father,” his son spoke from the open doorway. “Father, can you hear me?”
The man continued to conduct, apparently oblivious to his son’s presence. The younger man, the son, moved further into the room, towards the seat in which his father reveled. Pulling a small pistol from his pocket, the son grimaced as he starred at the back of his father’s head.
“Don’t ignore me, father,” he said, a warning tone in his voice. “I won’t have you ignore me, father!”
He cocked his pistol and pointed it at the back off his father’s head. His hand shook as he aimed, rage building. The music continued and grew in volume and intensity and seemed to hide the sound of the explosion of the gun. Shock froze the younger man’s face. His hands dropped to his side’s, the gun slipping from his fingers. He could see his father, finally turned to face him, looking into his eyes. The back of the older man’s chair had a large, charred hole, revealing his in tact body and double barreled shot gun pointing straight through the hole. The younger man looked down to where his father’s gun was pointing, at his own body, and saw a similar hole. That seemed to trigger something in the younger man and, as if only just realising his injury, he fell to the floor. He saw his father round the chair and step towards him. His house shoes soft, making no sound, especially over the music. He looked up to his father’s face and saw a cold stare.
“I’ve told you before, you would need to be smarter than that. You don’t deserve my death at your hands, child. You should have been smarter.”
“Father…”
The still living, older man, returned to his chair and his music and his wife’s screams penetrated the orchestra’s work. He smiled, knowing his reign was once again safe, at least until his younger son was old enough to challenge him.
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