Flash Fiction Writing

5.16.15

He unplugged his guitar and stepped off the stage, asking the entire audience to come stand around him as he played. As he played and sang, I could picture him so clearly in a studio apartment, liquor at his side, penning these words into a private notebook. There’s something alive in the calm strumming of folk songs, an understanding of the inherent melancholy and hope wrapped up in human life. Maybe that’s why it’s my favorite; I feel like I understand that too.

I love watching musicians play, when their feet start stamping uncontrollably like the melodies are curling up their legs. Or when their face scrunches up and you know they are reliving what inspired the song on the edge of their minds. The air around musicians is magic and bright. Their hands move me in ways that make my own hands grasp at themselves with excitement, anticipation, emotion. I was never blessed with music, but I’ll consider myself lucky every time I see it live.
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4 Comments

  • Lola Day

    We're blessed to be able to hear the music.
    Live music is medicine…
    you know the music is truly working through your insides when you can see the musician off the stage, where he is vulnerable in a different, more personal way.

    Reply
  • Lola Day

    We're blessed to be able to hear the music.
    Live music is medicine…
    you know the music is truly working through your insides when you can see the musician off the stage, where he is vulnerable in a different, more personal way.

    Reply
  • Bone

    There's something about them getting lost in the process that I just can't get over.

    Reply
  • Emma Tibbitts

    Love love love this… Beautiful, concise, and I can see a future even with such a short phrase. It made me feel as if I were really there and that concept is really important to me when I'm reading something.

    Reply

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