Friday, September 19, 2008

Crooner Craft

This one was really fun. SanDiegoMomma embedded a Sarah Mclachlan song in the instructions for PROMPTuesday #14 and we didn't even have to make paragraphs or sentences but she left this one piece of direction gently hanging, "Maybe a story will emerge."

Well fancy that.

Grand piano.

Long, slender hands play it. The fullness, almost tightness of my chest makes me want to cry but I swallow it. I’m just so full of the music.

The steep stairs were hard to climb. I almost got lost in the dense maroon carpet.

Our hands lay on the table fingers entwined. I squeeze without taking my eyes off the cool smooth drummer in this smoky jazz club.

Glasses are clinking, there’s cranberry juice in front of me. I’d asked for vodka but didn’t get much. I see someone wipe down the bar from the corner of my eye. People are talking softly, murmuring, behind me.

Smoke swirls in the shafts of light from the licos* and fresnels and baby spots over the throaty singer and her instrument.

When I lean my head on his shoulder he kisses my hair but doesn’t let go of my hand. I let the tears drip silently into his shirt.

He doesn’t mind.

*Is that the way you spell the name of the light? I can't remember.


  1. Anonymous4:53 PM

    I love the mood of this piece, so melancholy.

    I hope you are doing well!

  2. MAB, THANK YOU! That was bugging the crap out of me.

    Thanks OMama.