Three
She sat in a corner after she got the book out of her bag, and with her legs crossed in front of her, opened it but quickly closed it back. Dust. She coughed after it was awakened as if the wind told it to wake up. She fanned it away and opened the book again. There was only one page. She read what was on it, and this was what it said.
“Tonight the band played their socks off. The crowd really enjoyed our music, and maybe soon we’ll hit the big times. I’m looking forward to that. Our dream. This warehouse has been good to us, but it’s playing music that we want to be doing. Here comes the boss. One more thing, even if we don’t make it, we’ll play on. Ars longa, vita brevis.”
She closed the book and looked it over. No name. She undid her legs and put the book back in her bag. She went back to help clean.
“That was fast,” her cleaning partner said.
“It only had one page. Someone wrote something about playing in a band.”
“Another dreamer.”
“It doesn’t hurt to dream.”
“Yeah, but–”
“What’s ars longa, vita brevis.”
“Maybe some disease.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Forget it; let’s finish cleaning up.”
Posted by trisha on April 20, 2010 at 4:10 pm
how can you think of so many unique themes?
i have read the end first otherwise i would have been mystified.
Posted by girlgeum on April 21, 2010 at 7:03 am
It’s in my blood. I know that sounds cliche, but it is. I just adore writing. It’s my lover.
I think you can pull out more than one theme from a story.
Posted by trisha on April 21, 2010 at 9:48 am
you are right, but your versatiliity is more than you are admitting. then again, thats a healthy sign, the moment an artist gets smug, content he loses his hunger for creation.
i am an avid reader, dont forget it
Posted by girlgeum on April 22, 2010 at 6:16 am
Will never forget.
Thank you.