spirale

When Virgil starts spiraling down into thinking up catastrophic ‘what-ifs’, it’s Logan’s room he turns to.

Sometimes, when he’s very much on edge, he doesn’t feel the calming effect of the room, at first. His eyes are shut tight, breath rattling, as he lists every possible horrible outcome that could have-

Logan clears his throat. “Slow down, Virgil, I can hardly understand you.”

It’s not said with mean intent, not at all. Logan’s words are level headed and grounding, and Virgil begins to feel the effects of the room. It’s an odd, but not unpleasant thing- like looking through a telescope and finally having your view focus properly.

“So,” Logan continues. “My observations are you were afraid that Terrible Predicament x, y, z and so on may happen?”

Virgil nods, no longer trusting his voice. 

“I see. And what actually happened?”

The silence lasts for a few long moments before Virgil realises the question wasn’t rhetorical.

“Uh, I guess um…” he whispers. “Nothing.”

“Come again?”

Virgil raises his head to say it a little louder. “Nothing happened.”

“Good.” There’s a smile in Logan’s voice. “So what do you have to be afraid of?”

Virgil’s mouth twitches upwards in understanding. “Nothing.”

“What was that?”

“I have nothing to be afraid of.” The words echo around the room, loud and sure, and Virgil can hardly believe he’s the one saying them out loud. “I have nothing to be afraid of,” he repeats, and finally opens his eyes.

Logan is adjusting his glasses, beaming with pride.

“Well done, Virgil. A plus for today.”

“Suddenly, before the last chorus, a string broke on his acoustic guitar, and Jeff sang the lines, ‘Sometimes, I wonder for a while/Do you ever remember me?’ unaccompanied. If that weren’t dramatic enough, his voice spiralled up on the last word —‘me’— like a thin plume of smoke, holding on for a moment before drifting up to the ceiling. He took a quick bow, said ‘thanks,’ and trotted offstage, and the concert ended. It would not have been a more perfect finale if he had planned it.

Backstage, he cried and accepted sundry congratulations and compliments, as well as a few business cards passed to him. He couldn’t believe he’d been allowed to sing so many songs, and was overwhelmed.”

-David Browne on Jeff Buckley’s performance at Greetings from Tim Buckley, April 26, 1991.

I’m starting the climactic chapters of my manuscript tonight, pray 4 me