The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner will open early Wednesday morning, February 8th. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)
This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, February 17th, 2017.
His fingers flowed across the guitar strings, coaxing forth music as deep and broken as his soul. He used to play for folks, in straggly bars and tucked-away clubs, pure guitar or mixed with other voices, but no longer. Now, he played alone, heard only by the trees and the animals and the night.
“Come back, we want to hear you play,” the people cried. They offered money, then more money. Prestige. Fame. And still he played alone. Still, they didn’t understand.
She’d died at midnight, the soft strum of the guitar the last sound she heard; the first he heard in this new life without her. Maybe, if he’d stayed home, held steady against the temptations, she might still be alive. Maybe, if he hadn’t come home too late.
Sometimes people change. Sometimes, things are never the same.