music | 40again's Blog

One more sleep…

Thanks to Rochelle for shepherding us through another year of Friday Fictioneers. Thanks also to Bjorn for supplying the photo for the prompt this week .

Genre – Fiction

Word Count: 100

The Lost Chord

Hugo loved music, but whenever he sang people ran covering their ears. He played several musical instruments reasonably badly, only the piano had escaped his attentions. The Outdoor Piano Festival would change all that.

For months he cycled over to see Aunt Matilda and hammered out his versions of the classics on her yellowing ivories.

On the day of the Festival, Hugo was eager. Clutching his music he mounted the steps and played his piece to a stunned audience. He heard someone mutter ‘unbelievable’ and ‘he lost a chord.’

Pleasure turned to embarrassment as he dived to retrieve it.

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I wrote this a while ago for a prompt I missed; it has been dusted off and suitably amended. May I take this opportunity to wish my fellow Friday Fictioneers and all my friends and followers a Happy Holiday, however you celebrate it, and a healthy and prosperous 2015.

click Mr Frog for more great stories

When I first saw this photo, I thought of the brightly painted camper van that used to park outside our house. It belonged to the boyfriend of the lady who lived next door to us, it seemed a wonderful magical thing to my childish eyes. It was the 60’s, a time of great change in the world, the one that most affected me at the time was the music. Now I had The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The Righteous Brothers, The Supremes, The Byrds….with tongue in cheek and your indulgence, I give you my trip down a musical memory lane

Musical Memory Lane

Genre: Memoir

Word Count: 100

Hey Mr Tambourine Man, you’re the king of the road and I’ll never find another you. Baby don’t go.

Just once in my life I want to be with the ‘in’ crowd. I’ve got a heart full of soul and you’re like a rolling stone.

Didn’t you hear me crying in the chapel? You’ve lost that lovin’ feeling and I want you back in my arms again.

You’ve got your troubles, but you keep singing the same old song and I’m tired of waiting.

Stop! In the name of love

I can’t get no satisfaction; baby, the rain must fall.

Thanks to Rochelle for conducting the Friday Fictioneers, we dance to her tune each week. Thanks for the great photo to Indira Mukerjee via Scott Vanatter.