(100-word flash fiction)
She stood in the centre of a small gathering, in the park, playing as usual.
Moonlight glinted off the bow, the strings, her golden hair, as though light was turning into notes into little waves of joy, into a loosening of his pain, into tiny glimpses of a smile.
He listened, becoming a little boy, helplessly watching his mother play, waiting for his father, who never came home.
On the subway ride home, he finally gets to read through the newspaper. A small column informs him, “The brilliant violinist Aurora has been mugged and killed in the park last night.”
It’s Wednesday again when an eclectic group of writers gather around the Friday Fictioneers fire to tell short stories, all prodded by the Girl Guide in Purple, Rochelle 🙂
Photo prompt –