Again, I used both songs for the prompt. I imagine that this story would have been very different if I’d listened to Keith Urban’s “Better Life” (Thanks for the suggestion, Mandi!) first, but who knows.
Yearning for the Better Life from Boulder to Birmingham
The wind roars around the van that’s taking her to the show, making the driver fight to keep it on the bridge. Ellie watches his fingers whiten from the pressure on the steering wheel, his jaw clenches and unclenches. She intimately knows this feeling of trying to stay on course as luck diminishes.
It’s her first gig without JD. After all of his promises of a better life, she never thought she’d be in this moment or any other moment, without JD. All that it took was some old touring buddies with a vial and a promise of feeling good, better, in a way she could never make him feel good.
The curtain goes up and she hugs her guitar to her. Her fans applaud, cheer, support. Once this would have meant the world, but now the world feels too big and lonely and the last thing she wants to do is sing a love song she wrote about JD on a Friday night when the moon was high casting them in silver, the color of the wind chimes trembling dulcet tones in the breeze, when love felt like saving instead of dying.
She runs the pick over the strings and the noise hushes. She can almost feel him here, ready to pick notes on his Stratocaster. A chill caresses her cheek and nape, like icy fingertips from a lover far, far away.
end
Sascha Darlington
Feels real. Nice job.
A beautiful, kind of mystical piece, Sascha. The changing weather of love, the chill touch. From what I’ve seen, some people get away with drugs and others don’t. They took one of my favourite poets, Michael Dransfield at 24yo. My brother survived.
Artists seem prone to welcoming drugs of all kinds. And, you’re right, some survive. I’m glad that your brother was one of them.
Many thanks for your comment as well. It’s an interesting task, writing stories based on songs.
ps I wrote an alligator poem yesterday. 😉
I found it. I like the poem and the alligator’s bling, well done. I’m doing nannapieryemow once a fortnight with WordPress now, which is only marginally better than nothing, so I don’t see much.
I have no idea what nannapieryemow means but hope it comes with an umbrella and a cherry.
Hahaha
So sad….great short tale!
DB McNicol, author
Microfiction: Bird
Thank you so much for reading! 🙂
“When love felt like saving instead of dying” just might be my favorite line in this. Great work!