Posted in stream of consciousness

String/Heart

We’re connected by string, where hearts wander others bleed.
It’s your soul, inexplicably woven, interconnected, forever intersecting where we inevitably collide.
We crash and spin, debris scattering this lifespan.
Junkyard hearts rebuilt for our eventual mates, weighted with this tugging of our fates.

Posted in friday fictioneers

It Sounds Like Blue

The violinist swayed like smoke. The small crowd followed suit as he laid a spell over them with his dance. The beat of the small drum set vibrated through the ground just enough for the man to keep time along.

He squinted as the bow struck and slid across the strings while the violinists’ fingers moved devilishly quick. The young girl beside him slid a crumpled piece of paper into the palm of his hand.

“It sounds like blue, light not dark, like watching storm clouds or flying towards the stars with wind in your hair. It feels like love.”

music-roomPHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count: 100

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields as always for wrangling in Friday Fictioneers.