Hard to Tell
The man slung his guitar over his shoulder and took a pick out of his back pocket, its silver surface glittering in the dust motes. The bar patrons sat motionless, not blinking, barely breathing. I hastily lowered my hands, having raised them in order to applaud when he stepped on stage. Apparently they did things differently in this bar.
I tried catching my friend’s attention, but Jean was sitting just as rapt as everyone else. I hitched my seat closer to the stage, trying to get a better look.
The man on stage was nondescript. I wouldn’t have noticed him on the street, not because he was ugly or even plain, but because he looked like everyone else. Both his hair and eyes were of indeterminate color, and he could have been 30 or 50. It was hard to tell.
Just as I was beginning to regret having agreed to accompany Jean to this seedy bar, the man on stage bent over his guitar and began playing, the chords shattering the air, scattering the light so that suddenly all I could hear, all I could see, was him.
3 comment(s):
this one is awesome! Being a musician, I really connect with this!
And I, too, haven't written much in the last two weeks.. I have to poop or get off the pot, as they say, and get crackin'.
Working alot on my NaNoWriMo project - getting my notes up to snuff, and my outline finished before November 1.
Good luck with that, Alro! I wish I had the discipline to do NaNoWriMo.
yeah subbing, it's fun! I went on a field trip and have to be mean. I'm too tolerant sometimes though. I try to gauge them before I crack the whip. and that's not always best. i'm having great mornings, but worse afternoons, so i'm working on my sub technique. The jobs are hard to get now though...I've been fortunate, but this is a crazy deal, being hired out by another company...
oh and I read that ficlet and I always think you write beautifully! and you should! you teach it! (and grade it)
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