It still feels like it’s all I’ve ever needed – as though it’s all I’ve ever known. I no longer need to be protected. I need to save the songs.
It kept me happy, kept me dependent. Still I run my hands along the fabric of my heavy skirts, trying to press out the rumples in the cloth, still trying to observe each day the myriad of rituals and ablutions the Church required of me. Still trying to impress the world – it is a heavy burden, but one I still accept, with, I hope, a certain level of both grace and humility.
“Save the songs.” He whispered those words into my ear as he lay dying – “Save the songs.” I had no idea what it was he wanted me to do, no idea what songs could possibly need saving, in this world of mp3s and internet downloads. I thought to myself long and hard before deciding to uphold his request. Even if it was just the deluded ramblings of a dying priest. I was the only one left by his side as he lay, left abandoned and alone in a world determined to turn its back on tradition.
Then the floods came – the world ended.
Civilisation sank beneath the waves, submerged beneath the ever-rising breakers. While others fought for tinned food and bottled water I strove, my only quest to find them. To save them. To rescue sheet music from the hungry mouth of the flames. From the fires that sprung up from the embers, stirred by the rage of those still alive. Nature red in tooth and claw exacted its revenge on we, the scattered remnants of humanity.
The cities burn slowly. Concrete will burn, but it takes time. Time enough for me to play my fiddle while the world slowly dies.
Another story, almost forgotten, for Trifecta, BeKindRewrite and 3WordWednesday . The prompts were, in the order above, Observe (the third definition, as always,) All I’ve Ever Known, Save the Songs and To be Protected (the Bekind prompts.) The 3WordWednesday prompts were Dependance, Kept and Rumple , which I always thought was Crumple…
Thanks Guys and Dolls!