copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Broken Piano
The casket was empty as far as I was concerned. I had come to pay my respects to my former teacher, the piano virtuoso Horace Thornhill, but as I approached, all I saw in the satin-lined box was a dead body.
I looked at the hands that had drawn exquisite aural elixirs from ivory vessels and the face that had worn an expression of such concentration and sublimity in the midst of his performances. They were empty—as cold and silent as a marble statue.
There was nothing more than a broken piano now; the music had flown far away.
October 23rd, 2013 at 9:24 pm
Excellent take on the prompt! ‘aural elixirs…ivory vessels’ – lovely.
October 23rd, 2013 at 9:52 pm
Love the parallel that you make / the music really flies far away…
October 23rd, 2013 at 10:00 pm
Death – the great equaliser
October 23rd, 2013 at 10:07 pm
Exquisite.
October 23rd, 2013 at 10:09 pm
Exquisite writing.
October 23rd, 2013 at 10:10 pm
Beautifully written. It reminded me of seeing my grandfather’s body in the coffin and although it looked like him, it didn’t have the life, love and personality that he’d had when alive.
janet
October 26th, 2013 at 10:22 pm
I have actually only seen one dead body and that was my grandmother. I felt the same: that uncanny feeling of the unfamiliar pervading something which had always been so familiar.
October 23rd, 2013 at 11:23 pm
Love the poetic aspects of this post, the language used is rich and gorgeous, like it should only be used for special occasions.
October 24th, 2013 at 12:33 am
Fantastic take on the prompt. Love it. Well done.
October 24th, 2013 at 5:01 am
David this piece was beautifully written and hit home for me. My grandfather was a pianist and a surgeon. i used to marvel at this hands. And when I picture him now it is as he one was hunched over in passionate concentration at this Grand. Not the shell I saw when he passed.
October 24th, 2013 at 5:28 am
Wonderfully poetic!
October 26th, 2013 at 10:18 pm
🙂
October 24th, 2013 at 7:24 am
So much said in so few words, I loved the flow of the language in this 🙂
October 26th, 2013 at 10:18 pm
Thank you and thank you for reading. 🙂
October 24th, 2013 at 6:15 pm
Dear David,
I am sitting here with tears blurring my vision. If that doesn’t suffice for a comment, I don’t know what else to tell you.
One thing remains…the music now lives on in your heart and you poured your heart out onto the page. Very well done.
Aloha,
Doug
October 26th, 2013 at 10:18 pm
Doug,
your comment means a lot to me, so thank you very much. I always appreciate your thoughtful, personalized comments.
take care,
David
October 24th, 2013 at 6:18 pm
Dear David,
At the expense of waxing punnish, this struck a chord with me and I am, at this moment, close to tears. A lot of depth in 100 well-chosen words, sir. Thank you for writing.
Shalom,
Rochelle
October 26th, 2013 at 10:15 pm
Rochelle,
your comment means a lot to me. Thank you very much for reading my stories so faithfully and for your kind comments. I appreciate you a lot.
-David
October 24th, 2013 at 7:00 pm
an excellent depiction of death, which is a lovely metaphor in this case David, well done.
October 24th, 2013 at 9:45 pm
Broken is such an utterly succinct and yet insufficient word for how we feel when we suffer a loss of someone close. You did a very good job with the metaphor.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:14 pm
Thank you, my friend.
October 25th, 2013 at 2:45 am
This is so heartfelt and sad. So true that when we loose someone we loved or respected, it’s the end of so much more. Really beautiful post.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:14 pm
Thank you for your comment. Although what remains when someone dies resembles, what we know, the important parts are gone. It’s a sad truth of life (and death).
October 27th, 2013 at 12:15 am
Indeed.
October 25th, 2013 at 4:31 am
This is quite excellent, David! I think one of your best. “Ivory vessels” Love!
October 26th, 2013 at 10:12 pm
Wow, thank you so much, Amy. I’m very happy you liked it. 🙂
October 25th, 2013 at 4:57 am
Powerful. There’s something very special about your writing.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:12 pm
Ah, thank you so much. I appreciate it.
October 25th, 2013 at 5:53 am
This was a wonderfully descriptive term: aural elixirs. Great story.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:12 pm
Thank you so much for your kind words. 🙂
October 25th, 2013 at 9:57 am
Not much I can say to this. Conjures up the emotions perfectly within the space allowed.
October 25th, 2013 at 2:15 pm
these are the occasions when people will thank for modern technology and its so rampant availability. I truly regret that when I went to my ancestral home I did not had my present cell phone 🙂
October 25th, 2013 at 11:02 pm
fabulous story David!
October 26th, 2013 at 10:11 pm
🙂 Thank you, my friend.
October 26th, 2013 at 4:36 am
David.. you wrote a great story. Poetic nattative voice and still captured the death of music in wonderful metaphors.. of ivory…
October 26th, 2013 at 10:10 pm
Thank you very much.
October 26th, 2013 at 7:24 pm
Great analogy.
Excellent piece of work.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:09 pm
Thank you. 🙂
October 26th, 2013 at 8:08 pm
Very true depiction of what Death robs from our lives. The husk that once was. Dreadful to think about, but horribly true.
October 26th, 2013 at 10:45 pm
beautifully written.. i love the language that you used 🙂
October 27th, 2013 at 6:03 am
That’s what death’s about then. No room for sentimentality. Finality.
October 27th, 2013 at 11:26 pm
David,
I really enjoyed this one. Funerals always make me consider my own mortality and as I age I seem to be attending more of them all the time. Your right, the casket contains nothing but a lifeless body. The spirit is gone, but the memories will remain in our hearts and minds as long as we live. Beautifully done.
October 28th, 2013 at 12:08 am
Really well done, David. The imagery is superb, and the last line is a masterpiece of emotional impact.
October 28th, 2013 at 8:52 am
Thank you. 🙂
October 28th, 2013 at 4:09 am
Love the creative interpretation David. And lovely descriptive writing.
October 28th, 2013 at 8:49 am
Thank you, my friend. 🙂