Moments of Importance

The ochre light of the sun hugs your face through the windscreen as you smile in a way that gives the warmth of the day competition. Scenery of greens and blues and mountains and sheep fly past behind your head out the driver’s window, and it’s as though the music takes over. I hear nothing you say but I can count the lines around your mouth and the glints in your eyes. Then like that – it’s over; I can recall nothing you said or did but this image in my mind where your face convinced me magic exists in this world.

Continue reading

Ear Worms

A thin ribbon of green viscosity slithers under a flautist’s door. It slides along walls and meets other slender ribbons – deep, glistening chestnut from the folk club, vivid scarlet from a classical concert in the town hall and vibrant, earthy umber from the mellow notes of Miles on a stereo. Together they dance solemnly, rising up, coiled together in a strange braid of colour and light, and then part to pursue their solitary tasks. They are creatures of great beauty and ingenuity.

Continue reading

The Watch

Old Dai Jones was surely turning in his grave as we traipsed up the previously forbidden track, decorated now with fairy lights and pink bunting. Women in the Nightingale Singers? “Over my dead body,” Dai had famously said.

I couldn’t even sing. Like most others, I came out of curiosity. That, and because Carol had espoused the healing benefits of group singing. I’d try anything that might help my arthritis, and it couldn’t be any worse than that yoga lark.

Continue reading

The music of love

Aliens stand next to a Shamen with an Irish woman and baby in the foreground

Omar Tamer was near the top of the rise, looking down across the Ein-Gedi Valley, with its red boulders and tufted bushes. The goats were still grouped in a herd, grazing the succulent hackberry leaves near the old ruins. His thirst nagged, but he had to eke out his supplies for a bit more, so he just pressed his lips to his bottle and let the tepid water soak them for a few seconds.

Continue reading

Writing Task for September

music in swansea

HOMEWORK for deadline Thursday midnight, 21.09.23.

TASK: ‘Music’. Write 500 words or fewer about ‘music’. Your story title isn’t included in the 500 words.

Homework to be in by midnight, Thursday 21st September 2023.

Meeting at 1.30pm, Sunday 24.09.23, Discovery Room, 1st floor, Central library. Finish at 3.30pm.

Festival of fun!!!

Rock festival sufffers downpour - two people - male and female stand in the rain under an unbrella

Putting up the tent, Sam and Evie smiled at each other. They felt like naughty teenagers. It was to be their first music festival. Both in their forties, they had always wanted to go but life had always got in the way. With the twins off on a school trip for a week their time had come. The Hadfield music festival happened to fall at that time.

            They had booked a quiet field that overlooked the stage area and had showers and toilets. The weather looked fine, so excitement was bubbling. Wandering around the main area a cacophony of sound and smells assaulted their senses; so much choice and so many people. Although they did notice that a majority of the crowd were quite young, they were determined to enjoy the experience.

            The bands started playing, they wandered around getting a taste for each brand of music; some they enjoyed, others not so much. One of their favourite bands was due to play the next night, so they settled for a takeaway and returned to their tent for a reasonably early night.

Continue reading

The Devil’s Music

“Hey Belial,” Lilith shot the demon a furious glance, “will you quit your beatboxing, or I swear to Dog I’ll beatbox your ears.”

His single, vein-etched eye widened as she swept a taloned claw inches from his snout and he tumbled backwards in mid-beat into a vat of moral turpitude soup.

“Watch it, mam,” he coughed, picking lumps of jellied depravity out his hair, “you nearly had my eye out then.”

She skewered him with a look that would have frozen sunspots.

“What,” she snarled, “do you think I was TRYING to do?”

He tensed expecting another wave of maternal violence; she was always grouchy at this time of the millennium.

Continue reading
error: Content is protected !!