Wednesday

(Photo Credit: Anshu Bhojnagarwala)

What was once a paean to melody was now a monument to melancholy. A perfunctory examination of rotting wood, the asymmetric smattering of mud on top and a reluctant profusion of motley crew of flowers made the top of what was earlier a piano now seem a spontaneous grave.

The keys long gone to the vagaries of nature and the vicissitudes of neglect eerily resembled elongated skeletal fingers. Yet this very lifeless piano struck terror in the hearts of the residents at the midnight hour every Wednesday by beating out an immaculate version of Chopin’s “Nocturne” in E Flat Major.

This story was written as part of the FRIDAY FICTIONEERS challenge, more about which may be found HERE

 For the complete list of entries, please click HERE

Buckshot

With sparkling eyes, and a fluffy tail, out clambered the curious fox

One furtive glance and, alas he was clasped firmly in a pair of claws

Remembering his mother’s words, “Never venture out on an Equinox”

Ruminating on his folly all the while getting closer to the bear’s steely jaws

 

The woods reverberated with the sound of buck shot

Stung by which the bear dropped the little fox

The ranger with his gun barrel still hot

Told the lucky survivor, “Today is Equinox”

Courtesy of Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt#97