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Wednesday

by Venky

(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

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4 comments

Susan A Eames March 17, 2019 - 7:06 pm

Great opening line – and what an eerie ending! You really surprised me. 🙂

Susan A Eames at
Travel, Fiction and Photos

Reply
Margaret March 18, 2019 - 3:50 am

There’s still life in the old relic, then. I know how it feels. Wonderful story. I love the finish.

Reply
venkyninja1976 March 18, 2019 - 4:43 am

Thank you so much!

Reply
crimsonprose March 18, 2019 - 6:26 am

Nice one, Venky. I love those ‘skeletal fingers’ 🙂

Reply

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