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Write about two people who form a bond with each other through music.

Posted in Middle School on Nov 1, 2022

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✍️ 45 stories

To Carry Me Home

Submitted to Contest #149

(For my Father)Mama’s house is at the end of the shortest street in Bennetsville. It isn’t even what you’d call a street, really. Just a little hook off the main road that circles behind Jason’s greenhouse. I don’t know if there’s even a street sign there. Us locals know where to find it, and travelers don’t have no reason to look. Nothing there for them to be interested in, ‘cept maybe the greenhouse or the little church just past that. But for me, it’s home.Or, it was.Growing up on this little street means you know all the neighbors, and t...

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Listen

Submitted to Contest #149

CW: gun violence (not graphic)Wake up, Mr. Woodridge. Open your eyes. Come on, open them up. I see you’re confused and—now, there’s no need to be rude. The chains are there for a reason. Please don’t struggle, you’ll only hurt yourself. Listen, and I’ll explain.Feel free to take a drink of water. There’s a bottle to your left. There was no need to do that. You will be thirsty later. Sit still, please, stop shouting. You can’t get out and I really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t mean for this to be frightening, but I neede...

38 likes 36 comments 36
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The Mixtapes of August

Submitted to Contest #149

I told myself I wouldn’t let him break my heart in a parking lot.When Nick returned home for the summer, his parents had converted his room into a pilates studio. That meant he was sleeping on a pull-out in the living room. Spending time at his house had been difficult back when they were in high school, but now there was nowhere for them to hide. Maybe that had been the point of eradicating his homeward privacy. His parents, like many who suspected their child was growing up in ways they couldn’t adjust to, might have thought the solution w...

38 likes 33 comments 33
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Extraordinary

Submitted to Contest #149

(Warning: Some profanity )    The ability to function in day-to-day life as a neurotypical human is an admirable quality, but it comes at an often overlooked expense; for it is in the anomalies, unique and rare, that exists the extraordinary.     “Autism. She will never speak or function normally.” The doctor delivered the diagnosis like the Unabomber, quickly tossing it at the intended target and fleeing the area. Tally’s parents, consumed by shock, denial, and grief, carried the diagnosis within their h...

26 likes 16 comments 16
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Building A Dream

Submitted to Contest #149

     It had been his first substantial commission, designing the Bedford Hills Hotel, over 40 years ago. Like a gigantic wedding cake: sixteen layers of pure delight, and now he owned a slice. The top slice; the icing on the cake. "With a cherry on," he thought. They had named it 'The Robert Barrington Suite'. He was so proud of his namesake. For the last 20 years, he was the principal architect, then senior partner in the most prestigious design and build company in Europe. Now, he deserved his retirement, his music...

21 likes 11 comments 11
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Pussycat Janks

Submitted to Contest #149

Justine Chase searches through the online musician listings hoping to strike gold. Against daunting odds, she hopes to find needles in a haystack in the form of instrumentalists who don’t have slacker-artist issues. She fantasizes about being the lead singer for a country-punk band.Although she's a first-year student in the MFA program at Long Beach State, her performance has thus far been lackluster. Thirty-five years old, Justine had an adventurous four years at UC Berkeley. She graduated from the English department with highest ...

20 likes 23 comments 23
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UKRAINE in the Time of Rusalki (So We Don't Forget)

Submitted to Contest #149

Ukraine in the Time of Rusalki(So We Don’t Forget)(The rusalka of the Ukrainian songs are derived from ancient magical incantations that were supposed to secure a rich harvest or attract a lover to a girl. More recent songs often have a love plot in which an abandoned girl is transformed into a poplar, a young wife is poisoned by her mother-in-law, or a young bride commits suicide to escape from a repugnant husband.)It’s June, the time of the year in which the rusalki were believed to be at their most dangerous. At this time, they were suppo...

19 likes 15 comments 15
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Mrs. Frisbie

Submitted to Contest #149

Writing Prompt #297 - Two people who form a bond through music Reedsy Prompts 6/3/22 By Jen Gurney It was 1973 and I was in fifth grade. My family had just bought an old, rickety upright piano from our neighbors who were moving and couldn’t take it with them. My dad and a few neighborhood dads carried it to our house from theirs, swearing a lot the whole time, if memory serves. It was painted this cheesy, antiquey olive green color, sounded really tinny, and more than a few keys stuck. Pretty hideous, but it was only $200, so it became ...

17 likes 2 comments 2
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Heart Song

Submitted to Contest #149

CW: mention of deathHeartSong Marci’s pulse hammers in her throat — WHOOMPwhoomp! WHOOMPwhoomp! WHOOMPwhoomp! — so fervently that it’s painful. After one sharp intake, her breath catches in her throat so she can’t speak. Can’t swallow.Her knuckles are white, one hand gripping Aaron’s and the other clenched on her lap. Had they heard correctly?Distantly, through layers of cotton batting in her head, Aaron’s question filters.“She - she has… what?” His voice is hoarse, ragged.Dr. Greenberg repeats, gently, what they hoped they ha...

14 likes 12 comments 12
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Try to Keep Up

Submitted to Contest #149

Wade turned into his parking place and screeched to a halt. The neighboring car, straddling the line, sat half in his spot. ‘How can people be so lame?’ Fuming, he backed out and parked down the block. Knowing who owned the car, he knocked on her apartment door. No answer. Hours passed, watching for her return. He worked. He ate. He practiced routines on his silent drum pads. He looked out and saw her at the car. Sprinting to the garage, he arrived as she sat behind the wheel. “Hi! Can you move your car? You’re blocking my spot.” She acte...

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DUET

Submitted to Contest #149

It was a bustling Saturday market in the town centre as shoppers shuffled from one makeshift stall to another, hurriedly scooping up summer delights, food specials, and recently fresh produce that conflictingly looked like it was on its last days of edibility. Time was limited. Not because of the early closing hours but due to the approaching war knocking at the gates of their small and peaceful village. The threat of a stray bullet or missile striking the marketplace was high on the agenda of the defiant cautious crowds of hungry citizens ...

13 likes 4 comments 4
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Guitar Man

Submitted to Contest #149

At the exact same time every morning he strums his guitar day through night and night through day. Nobody knows who he is or why. I have never seen his face, or heard his voice, or even learned his name. I have never seen him go outside once. Sometimes my little brother knocks on his door but no answer. The whole town has heard his music but not a single person has seen him before. Everyday when I walk to and from school I hear him play. It’s soothing yet stimulating. Sometimes, when it’s quiet outside I can hear him from my bedroom. Late at...

13 likes 5 comments 5
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Tesoro Mio (My Treasure)

Submitted to Contest #149

It was five-thirty in the afternoon on a Thursday, and Zelda was seated at a café in Florence that overlooked the picturesque Piazza Duomo. The Café Florian had become a norm in her everyday existence during the last year she had lived in Florence. Upon finishing work for the day, she would always stop by the small café to enjoy the beauty of the piazza where she could unwind and watch the diversity of people as she indulged in a rich caffè latte. She had come to cherish the time at the café, but she also looked forward to seeing Mateo each ...

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Two Skeletons in a Snow Globe

Submitted to Contest #149

The haunting melody begins at dusk each day, like clockwork. It is Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 14, of that I am sure.  I step aside from my usual perch behind the weathered gravestone and roll out my stiff shoulders. Tired from standing all day long, I kneel down and rest against the head of the gravestone. With slow swipes, I smooth out the ruffles in my pink skirt and finally begin to relax.  Next to me is a small, orange jack o’lantern, grinning. Gently, I lift it from the ground and cradle the pumpkin in my arms. It’s some...

12 likes 6 comments 6
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Singing and being Irish in England

Submitted to Contest #149

Singing and Being Irish in England Patrick O’Connor worked for a big English company, which should come as no surprise as he had moved to England less than two years ago for just that very purpose. But he had not allowed for the possibility that he would feel as isolated as he did now every day. The colleagues in his office were all as bloody English as they could be. And they took great joy in mocking his very Irishness, especially his accent. And some of his expressions. They would often ask him what he was “after...

12 likes 4 comments 4
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