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Wistful Poet

Concert for the Dead-My first Short STory!

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Wistful Poet

Concert for the Dead

 

St. Agnes' Cemetery was desolate and quiet, just the way Ella Perry liked it. There were no old ladies frowning, guys giving her looks that made her look dirty, or the annoying curosity stares of young childern as she paraded by her in turquiose and black hair and gothic attire. Today she wore a corset top that matched her hair, a layered black skirt the breeze played with, and giant black and silver boots which exaggerated her 5'10 height to 6'0. Long streaks of black mascara ran down her face, but her hands were too busy carrying the music stand, the green folder of sheet music and the heavy trumpet case.

 

Sharon's grave lay under the protecting shade of an enormous elm tree. The ground had not settled yet, but it was so chocked with a hill of flowers and cards it resembled the grave of a celebrity instead of a humble nobody. Ella's flower, a lone black rose lay across the granite top & she would be giving her last gift before she departed for college.

 

"Hi Sharon," Ella whispered, letting the tears fall a little harder and the mascara run a little more, " I hope your in heaven, though you don't believe, and I hope God let you in because he saw all of the good things you done on the earth...I came to say goodbye, I got accepted into Illnois State and I made the jazz band....God, I wish you were here..." She had met Sharon as an akward freshman in Mr. Spelling's band class when Sharon had told the controlling Emma Broad to go hell when she was giving Ella a hard time for forgetting how to finger an A on her trumpet. "Its the first valve then the second..." Sharon quietly told her and their friendship blossomed out of a single "thank you, I like the shirt...."

 

Unlike gothic, loud Ella, Sharon was quiet and wore preppy colthes, though she had a love of rock music and loved anything from Led Zepplin to As I Lay Dying, not to mention her saxaphone solos reminded one of the Big Band Days. For the next three years they became inseparable; they preformed as a duo at the winter Jazz concerts that left audiences begging for more and on Thursday Night Live at Cafe Agua. Weekends were spent at heavy metal concerts or at Sharon's house watching hours of Monty Python sketches and movies. Life with Sharon had been like living in a bubble and Ella began to take it for granted Sharon would always be there with her saxaphone and "The Life of Bryan."

 

And then, that happy life of Monty Python and jazz music was over; Sharon was in an accident that claimed her life that past winter and Ella wandered in a daze for two months. She remembered the numbness of not feeling anything, the persisting empitness and would she ever be able to move on while Sharon slept forever under the earth.

 

Ella raised the gleaming trumpet to her lips, not noticing the river of mascara that had now run to her chest and played a jumpy Nat Cole song, to an Ella Fitzgerald ballad to the modern and sad "How to Save a Life" by the Fray, a song they had played many times at Cafe Agua. Before she packed up, she played Sharon's favorite song, a song the pep band always played; Barabara Ann. As she played, she could have sworn she heard a saxphone playing along with her. It was like a sign from Sharon: I'm in a happier place, don't be sad.

 

Ella felt a surge of peace as she left the cemetery, the first since she felt in a long time, and as she made her way through the iron gates, she couldn't help but wonder if she turned, would she see the dead standing out of their graves, applauding her?


"If you are faced with a dissappointment or a bad situation ask, will it matter in 10 years?

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tonyv

What an amazing short story, Wistful. It really kept my attention. From the first paragraph on, I could feel for, even relate to, the protagonist. At the risk of prying, I wonder what the source of inspiration for this write might be. Is it based upon real events? If not, I would be curious as to how you chose the location names, like the cemetery and the nightclub. Very well-written. I hope you will find time to write more and to share it here with us.

 

Tony


Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

wow wistful poet. excellent...magnificient.. wonderful. you could make a book out of this. i would buy it. this is one of the best short stories i ever read. it had me glue and fixtated on it from begining to end. the title was perfect and got the reader's interest right away. i salvated reading the love and bond the living had for the departed. glad to see you put god in there also. i know some teachers don't like reading anything concerning god. great faith to add the god remark. i would give you an A + on this dear. i love the trumpet and saxophone also.

 

larsen aka victor


Larsen M. Callirhoe

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

also as like tony i do wonder where you got the inspiration to write such a magnificient shaort story? the details were solid and crisp too.

 

victor


Larsen M. Callirhoe

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