March 22, 2012

  • sonata memory

    bluemooncat enormous thing.  pretty much micro story using the following words: sonata, cork, algae, ribbons, bone, sober, Year of the Dragon

     

    He was born in the Year of the Dragon, had been far around the block, down the road and back, to infinity and beyond, and found himself in a space and time that suited him just fine.  A little more solitary maybe than he’d planned in his youth.  His workaday life a little different than the path he’d chosen.  Nonetheless, a life that was what it was and more than enough of everything good most days.

    This day was one of those days.  He found himself sitting by the lake, ribbons of algae hiding plentiful fish, cat-n-nine tails dividing the bull from the frog.  Sun setting gently in front of him, cascading pinks and oranges, as he contemplated just how sober he needed to be. 

    In his mind, a sunny, dark-haired, green-eyed girl played a sonata by Mozart.  Her fingers flying over the piano keys, the same sure, sweet way that she’d played him long ago.  He closed his eyes letting the memories float in his mind like cork on the lake. 

    His eyes still closed, he could feel her in his bones, could feel her thinking about him.  Felt her so close that he could almost smell her skin, could almost sense her breath against his face. Stronger than a memory, his lips were pressed against softness more now than then.

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