[Original Fic] "Warmth"
More drabble-game writing, finally. This is John again, and will make more sense if you've read Hands.
Warmth
John plays a concert. 100 words, prompt: missing.
The stage lights are glaringly bright in my peripheral vision as my fingers dance over the piano keys. Beethoven’s Sonata Pathétique fills the auditorium and I feel warm. I know he is here, watching me, and my mind’s eye shows me his smiling face, unchanged after all this time.
Tonight’s concert is dedicated to him, though no one knows it but me - it’s been ten years. Ten years of me, my music, and the memory of patient hands.
I close my eyes for a moment, just to let myself feel the gentle warmth of his hands overlapping mine, guiding me.
Warmth
John plays a concert. 100 words, prompt: missing.
The stage lights are glaringly bright in my peripheral vision as my fingers dance over the piano keys. Beethoven’s Sonata Pathétique fills the auditorium and I feel warm. I know he is here, watching me, and my mind’s eye shows me his smiling face, unchanged after all this time.
Tonight’s concert is dedicated to him, though no one knows it but me - it’s been ten years. Ten years of me, my music, and the memory of patient hands.
I close my eyes for a moment, just to let myself feel the gentle warmth of his hands overlapping mine, guiding me.