The sharply defined fantasy edged out the sleet and sprays of water from passing traffic so that Sheila was no longer trudging to her piano lesson. Instead, there she was duck-walking through the intersection, guitar wailing, and a crowd gathering. Faceless, murmuring in the rain/sleet mess, people were unable to continue to their destination they were so drawn to the music.
That’s the kind of power Sheila dreamt of and it was never going to be hers sitting at some dumb piano.
“I’m sorry, Mister Bates. The trains are messed up because of the weather.”
“It’s your forty bucks, young lady, but this lesson ends promptly at 7 pm regardless. Now. Have you been practicing that piece daily as I instructed you to do?”
“How was your lesson, dear?”
“You’ll never find a husband with that sarcastic attitude, kiddo.”
“Mom, I’m fourteen. Did anyone call?”
“I’m your secretary then? Sit down and eat, dinner’s getting cold.”
“Did someone from Edgar’s Music Emporium call? It’s important.”
“No one called. Now eat.”
“You never told me your real name was Sheila!” Ace wiped the sweaty hair out of his face as they left the stage. Behind them, the screaming would go on for another half an hour if they let it, but they probably wouldn’t. It was too much of a high being out in front of that mob and waaayyyy too much fun annoying the owner with encore after encore after encore. It was their last night in this dive so there was nothing to lose.
Ace and Berry wandered out of the club around dawn, Berry still carrying her cherry-red Gibson ES-355. They’d be on the road to St. Louis tomorrow and no one touched that guitar but Berry.
“You know, Ace, you never told me your real name was Chuck!”
© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved
Read AleXander Hirka’s version here:
In August 2020, AleXander Hirka set himself the challenge of creating a daily digital collage based on an image and a concept. The image is that of the antique Omega watch that belonged to his Mom and the concept is Time. In September 2020, the Anomalous Duo is challenging themselves to write a short piece of fiction for each collage — the Our Hours project.