Monday, August 29, 2011

Opus 27, No. 1

The sound of the Nocturne hung in the room, coloring the very air with its sadness.  Kelly sat motionless at the piano bench, frozen in the last moment of the music, unwilling to let go of it.  The echo filled her ears, her lungs, her fingertips and she ached to bring it back.

Evan finished his sherry and rose from his chair.  “I don’t suppose there’s any cake left?”

A light creak issued from the piano bench as Kelly turned slowly toward the open window.  Having tried discussion, Kelly was hoping that the music could convey the pain that her words had failed to impart.  But all he wanted was cake.

With appalling certainty,  Kelly realized that while she had thought people were listening to her words or her music, they were usually just waiting their turn to talk.

Evan left the room in search of dessert, and found the room empty when he returned. 

Screams floated through the open window.  Evan wandered over to see what new calamity was taking place on the street below his 15th floor condo.  Kelly’s twisted body lay on the pavement, surrounded by horrified onlookers. 

Evan’s first thought was “Damn it, Kelly!  Why didn’t you say something?”



  1. He was probably concerned he had to put his cake down momentarily...

  2. Damn! That's quite the attention getter, now isn't it?

  3. Shucky ducky! Why'd she have to do that? Just never know what goes on in the minds of folks.