Word Count: 100
Genre: (almost, but not quite, okay, very loosely): Historical Fiction
Last Song
©July 18th, 2015
By Vijaya Sundaram
The cobbled street sang. The song was of ecstasy and sadness, of seriousness and playfulness. It trembled under his footsteps and echoed in his chest till he thought he would burst.
“Get up!” said a rough voice.
“I thought I heard music,” Frédéric coughed, struggling to his feet. His face was bruised. There was a trickle of blood at his mouth. He brushed away dust from his face. His eyes were full of sound.
The gendarme looked scornful. “Move along,” he snapped.
Frédéric moved on. The cobblestones looked like piano keys gone mad. He began to hum.
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Thanks, as always to our Fairy Blog-Mother, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for keeping us inspired, and for hosting Friday Fictioneers (a worldwide online writing community wherein we contribute 100 words of fiction based on a photo-prompt every Wednesday)! Also, thanks to Sandra Crook for her wonderful photograph, which, I’m guessing, is set in France, because she writes about her travels in France, along French waterways.