An Old PianoI found it in the street.Seems no one had time for music anymore.There was a catsleeping under the keys.I pushed it home,put it in the hall.The keys were worn,the wood faded.But when I pressed the keys,it poured out light:into the room,into my eyes,into my mind.I saw the ghostsof Saturday night.singing,dancing,pouring heartandsoulthrough the keys.AndContinue reading “The Old Piano”
Tag Archives: short story
Light Me Home
The stars are out tonight.A cold February night.The streetlights flicker, and I can see my breath escape my lungs into the cold night air.Light me home. Light me home.The silence, broken by the occasional taxi racing up the street,or a shout from a street over.Don’t you know people are trying to sleep?I feel an oldContinue reading “Light Me Home”
Let It All Be
I see an advert at the bus stop.The open road of the USA,highway stretching through Monument Valley.Nah, I’d rather be here.On the bus,headphones alive,listening to something real —like Traquair and the Tranquilizers,or Steve Adams singing,“Have you washed your hands?”Heading to Irvine beachin the peelywally Scottish sun.The kind of dayyou need sunscreen and a hoody,just inContinue reading “Let It All Be”
Ashtrays and Sunlight
Sitting in the back booth, the smell of coffee rolling through the place.I’ve been here for a while. In the silence.The jukebox is playing softly, the piano has been drinking, not me.Do they have jukeboxes anymore? Is this a dream?Suddenly a figure appears. Haunted, hands bloody. Checking its watch.“Times short.”Then he’s gone.I hear a soundContinue reading “Ashtrays and Sunlight”
Shelter From the Storm (and the bins) or Bin-nado
It went from a yellow alert to an amber alert to a red alert. Danger to life. A little too quickly. The fearless one is away to work. Healthcare. You don’t really have a choice. I’m sitting here and the wind is howling down the chimney. I hear a crash and a bash. Pulling backContinue reading “Shelter From the Storm (and the bins) or Bin-nado”
Paul Andrew Sneddon 