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Feb 15, 2019 22:24:40

Fever to the Form #9

by @timsubiaco PATRON | 334 words | 🐣 | 152💌

Tim Subiaco

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I understood why she wanted to get to this concert so early. On her trips to the physiotherapist, Nick Mulvey’s music kept her company and gave her strength. 

I had never heard his music until today but I fell in love with it immediately. He stood right in front of us, no backing band, no nothing. Just him and his guitar. His music has movement. Glimpses of hope, shrouded in soaring melancholic verses layered over rhythmic strumming. 

Her insurance only covered her for a month’s worth of therapy but her physiotherapist took it upon himself to see our the rest of her treatment for free. For someone like her, anything less than that would have been absurd. She was just seemed like one of those people who throw themselves so fully and recklessly down the waterfall of life that others feel a sense of obligation to make sure that they are alright. 

She had such a calm voice when she told me all of this that I scarcely believed it. There was no residue of pain, no bitterness. 

That was earlier this year she said and she had been working her strength up. She said that this was a big year for her. She would give it all she had one last time and see where it took her. 

Nick Mulvey took to the stage behind us and Cassie lifted her self up off the ground as if she was pulled by a string. You know how some people can just go from sitting crossed legged to standing without using their hands? Yeah it was like that, I find it really impressive especially since I have to plant both my hands on the ground like a toddler.

He played his guitar and sang of life. I turned to look at Cassie half expecting to see tears rolling down her cheeks. But she just has her eyes closed, a smile as wide as the sky stretched across her face. 

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