Play Me, I'm Yours - A Brief Interlude
London is full of surprises. Take this piano below, left to its own devices, to fend for itself in a small cemetery in the city's center. Its belongs to the Play Me, I'm Yours event which is part of the City of London Festival 2010. What I really love about this piano and its setting, its the potential stories that it inspires. Here's a scene that wafted through the dear lady's recesses whilst viewing this wonderful image. Oh the wanderings of a writerly writers brain.
Della woke, startled. Something was different; she looked up at the early evening sky a pastel pink smeared with charcoal grey, the moon would soon be out. A light breeze whispered through the tall oaks overhead, sending a shiver through her body. How long had she been sleeping? She stood now, patting down the back of her navy overcoat. It was dusk, no one was left in the park and yet she could sense she was not alone. What was that soft music? Delicate notes floated through the trees, melancholic yet beautiful, seducing her entire being, filling her mind, drawing her away from the shaded nook where she had napped in the arms of the late afternoon sun. She moved slowly, forward in a trance towards the music, crunching leaves underfoot, she is almost in the clearing.
A row of ancient maples lines an old dirt path, which leads to the black wrought iron gates, her only way back to the street. In the pathway, a young man in tailcoats sits bent over an old brown piano, his disheveled hair falls in waves just shy of his shoulders. Della cannot see his face but she can feel his fingers dancing lightly across the keys, his haunting music fills the air around her.
She hesitates in her approach, not wanting to disturb the pianist; waiting until his fingers slow to a light flutter. Her hands move to tangle in her own hair, twisting slowly as she sways to his playing. In an unhurried fashion, the young man lifts his head, tilting it ever so slightly in her direction, his eyes closed as he inhales deeply. Della catches her own breath watching his chest rise and fall as he turns to her now, a small smile spreading upon his dark lips.
* To Be Continued, Perhaps... *
Photo courtesy of a kind soul who works near the cemetery, I have altered the image to suit the mood of the story.
'Della - A Brief Interlude ' © 2010 T.Loto. All Rights Reserved
My main WIP is a contemporary romance, but I needed a break - this little snippet is an excerpt from a short story I am also developing. *Whispers* Taking a detour on...like many others...do we ever stay faithful to our WIPs?
Although I haven't entered a blogfest as yet I wanted to post a little something - I hope you enjoyed it but as I am still learning, please do let me know what you think.