100 Word Challenge for Grownups –Week # 73

January 16, 2013February 19, 2013 | Sandra Pavloff Conner

I couldn’t resist jumping in this week. Thanks to Julia for all these great challenges. They help so much with the “discipline” of writing, don’t they? This week’s prompt is “… the notes from the piano ….” So here’s my take:

THE SILENT NOTES

Lucy couldn’t understand. One whole octave silent … dead. She’d been gone 20 years, but surely someone else played ….

Lifting the lid, she spotted the wad of papers — old — torn — wedged under the strings. Prying the papers loose, she studied them: Letters! Letters and notes! And all signed by … him!

One whimper escaped. Then a sob. He really had written! Father had hidden them, and when she’d gone, he’d stuffed them here. Cruel joke!

Twenty years suffering a broken heart, and all that time ….

That’s what Father had meant when he’d whispered his dying words: “The notes … from the piano ….”

To join in the fun, hop over to Julia’s place and check out the challenge. (You’ll also enjoy her terrific header photo. It just pulls you in and makes you want to stay awhile just looking at it.)

http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2013/01/14/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week73/

Friday Fictioneers 100-Word Challenge – ‘Love’s Song’

January 12, 2013February 11, 2015 | Sandra Pavloff Conner

I wanted to join in with the other Friday Fictioneer participants this week, but I have to admit that my contribution is ‘illegal’ — being closer to 180 words. However, since this is the little story that kept nagging at me from the very first moment I saw the picture below, I have written it anyway and edited it down as far as possible in the time I had available.

The challenge is hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to take part, hop over to see her at this link:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/

The prompt is the following picture, which comes to us courtesy of Roger Cohen at http://betarules.blogspot.com.au/

LOVE’S SONG

They’d met at a rehearsal in this very theater. He, with his polished coat of dark walnut, was instantly captivated by her honey-maple coloring – but even more so by the sweet voice she gave to every note assigned her in the performances. Bravely, he’d professed his love, and she’d responded. They had made exquisite music together for 74 years.

Now, with their respective masters in their graves, the two aging instruments rested against the wall of an old closet behind the stage. His coat was battered and marred significantly. But her luster still had the power to draw music from him every time he looked at her. They sighed quietly. They still had each other – and the music that lived within them. He kissed her gently. She kissed him back. They embraced.

Outside, people slowed their stride as they passed the old theater. “There it is again,” said one. Others nodded in agreement.

“Strange,” said a young woman. “Every night, I’m just sure I hear music coming from inside, but there is never anyone there ….”

100-Word Challenge For Grown-Ups, Week 67 — What’s It Worth?

December 9, 2012September 27, 2013 | Sandra Pavloff Conner

Maybe I’m just in the mood to get into new challenges, but I really think it’s the chocolate that did it. Anyway, I couldn’t seem to resist trying out Julia’s challenge this week. Here’s the link to her site:

http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2012/12/03/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week69/

And the picture for the challenge is below — along with my “story.”

WHAT’S IT WORTH?

One half-piece left — and crumbs. He’d lick those off first, then take time savoring the piece itself. Since enforcement of the President’s War On Obesity, the total ban on chocolate had driven him mad.

“You have chocolate!” his sister shouted, entering behind him. He moved the plate out of reach. She was already dialing her cell.

“What are you doing?”

“Reporting you to the police, of course!”

The iron skillet was handy.

He managed to strike her before she’d finished dialing.

Okay . . . He was safe.

He settled his breathing before lifting the plate and inhaling the intoxicating fragrance. “Some things,” he whispered, “are just too valuable to lose.”