“Remember how my fingers danced on top of you? I could picture each key, each sound, each note. It was like we had the same mind. If I close my eyes really tight we could almost go back to the days we played the tales we told to the applause of silent crowds and the flowers which fell at our feet at the end of each piece. Now both of us are old and worn, neglected we have wasted away. But we still have our memories, they can’t take those from us.”
Marie trailed the smooth canvas cover with the tips of her shaking old wrinkly fingers. She knew their time together was almost up. She also knew its fate because her children cared less about the instrument. But how could they? It was the reason they spent many nights untucked and unkissed by their mothers lips.
Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.
To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Mike Vore. Thank you Mike for our photo prompt!