I tried to think of a pithier title and couldn’t come up with anything.
You can’t know what happens after you die. The piano feels screws loosening, feels a crowbar somewhere underneath. Wood cracks, splinters. It’ll be soon. They’ve already pried off its ivory keys. At least it doesn’t hurt.
There’s a pling sound as its strings are cut, the last music it will ever play.
* * *
“What a unique table!”
The table feels a hand run along its glossy surface.
“It looks like it was made from a grand piano top.”
Was I ever a piano? the table wonders. It can’t remember. Unfortunately, you can’t know what happened before you were born.
You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!
March 14th, 2019 at 11:57 pm
Interesting voice! 🙂
March 15th, 2019 at 9:12 am
I grinned from ear to ear when I saw the Green Wall Tower on the Hollywood Squares. 😀
You have most certainly upped the bar on piano POV stories…which really wasn’t a piano at all…or a table. 😉 So well done, you took my breath away.
March 26th, 2019 at 2:34 pm
Rochelle, thank you so much for your kind words. I’m sorry that this is so late. Life’s a bit unsettled these days. Looking forward to diving back into FF tomorrow though.
March 15th, 2019 at 10:03 am
A reincarnation tale with a twist. At least it didn’t go to waste.
March 15th, 2019 at 5:22 pm
That’s a cool take on reincarnation and recycling.
March 26th, 2019 at 2:33 pm
Yeah, it’s kind of a melding of spiritual and ecological. 🙂
March 15th, 2019 at 6:41 pm
Now I understand what Rochelle meant when she told me to hurry up and read yours…
Loved this take.. So very well done, indeed!
March 26th, 2019 at 2:32 pm
Thanks, Dale. 🙂 Rochelle’s a sweetie. Glad you liked it.
March 26th, 2019 at 4:08 pm
March 16th, 2019 at 7:36 am
Don’t know what to say. This one will stay with me. Nice job.
March 26th, 2019 at 2:26 pm
Thanks, Shirley! I’m glad you enjoyed it.
March 17th, 2019 at 7:04 am
A great little tale, if a little sad because the table has no memory. Very clever little piece.
March 26th, 2019 at 2:23 pm
I’m glad you liked it. Even if it doesn’t remember, we as readers can remember for it. 🙂
March 17th, 2019 at 8:54 am
I like the title. And of course pithy us one of my favorite words…having a a knack for the pith is every writer’s goal. Pling is another great term. I’m certain you’ve been missed on FF. Your stories via the foto never disappoints.
March 26th, 2019 at 2:21 pm
I’m glad you liked it. I find that it’s gotten harder to write stories for these, not because I can’t think of anything but I can’t think of something that is satisfying to me, which is one reason I don’t as much anymore.
March 26th, 2019 at 3:30 pm
I think you’re very good at flash fiction. You might be rusty is all. But I really liked it. You’re back in the saddle pal. 👋
March 17th, 2019 at 5:20 pm
What a unique take, so philosophical. Life, death an rebirth and in the end, if we don’t remember, does it even matter?
March 26th, 2019 at 2:20 pm
That’s a good point. That’s something I’ve been thinking about too lately, if meaning is tied to something being remembered.
March 18th, 2019 at 2:52 am
Really good. I love the shift from the piano’s viewpoint to the table’s. And I also love your description of the piano’s end. The way you describe the piano/table’s sensations – sounds, cracking, a stroking hand – brings it all to life. Which is appropriate I guess. And I like the title too.
March 26th, 2019 at 11:30 am
Thanks, Margaret. I’m glad you liked it.
March 18th, 2019 at 6:32 am
Good to see you again. And a cracker of a story too. I was almost in tears.
March 26th, 2019 at 11:30 am
Thanks, Sandra. I’m trying to get back into doing FF regularly although I’m not entirely consistent yet.
March 19th, 2019 at 6:00 pm
Unfortunately or fortunately? Hmmmm…
Though provoking story.
March 26th, 2019 at 11:29 am
Good point. Maybe ignorance is bliss. It makes life simpler at least.
March 19th, 2019 at 7:52 pm
Well imagined and excellent monologue. Good job.
March 26th, 2019 at 11:28 am
Thanks! Glad you liked it.