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 |  A blog about music from my unique perspective (also a spot for some poetry I’ve written) |
A blog, generally about music, usually for projects hosted by Jeff  . I may also write about the 48-Hour Media Prompt Challenge if I don't feel like writing a story or poem inspired by the given song. Other bits of poetry or different topics of discussion might end up here as well.![Merit Badge in WDC Media Prompt
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| Alex shuffled from one foot to the other on Ella's doorstep, sweaty hands clutching a bouquet of roses. His heart pounded in his throat as he knocked, even though he'd already texted he was coming. The door opened. Ella leaned on the frame with a pale smile. "Come in. I'm sick today… don't know how much fun I'll be." "I don't need to have fun." Alex held out the bouquet. "I wanted to help you feel better." Ella took the roses, sinking down onto the living room couch. After a moment's hesitation, Alex gathered the courage to sit beside her. She didn't object. They sat in silence for some time. A clock ticked on the mantle. Ella lay back in the cushions, eyes half closed. "I'm sorry… I guess this isn't a good time to—" "What?" She looked over at him, eyelashes batting against crystalline agate eyes. "I—thought… maybe you'd—" Alex choked on his words. "Well, speak up." Ella straightened up with a giggle. "I don't have all night." "Would you like to be—uh… like, more than friends? We've known each other for so long. I don't want to ruin it. But if you want, I'd love to…" "Alex, I do love you. But not like that." She looked him firmly in the eye. "Not now. Maybe after I complete my education." "Yes, of course," he mumbled, eyes on the floor. "Whatever you say. I just want you to know I'll be there if you ever…" "That's very nice. I appreciate your feelings. Now, I have some chores to do." Alex heaved a despairing sigh as he trudged down the sidewalk. How am I supposed to live without her? *** Ella moved away to a college town, and Alex stayed behind, working his way up the ranks at a local insurance company. He heard she got married and wasn't planning on coming back to her hometown. He avoided contact after that, glancing at her Facebook page every so often to make sure she was still alive and doing well. Alex tried looking for someone else, but his relationships never seemed to last very long. Am I doing something wrong here? Is it me? He examined himself after every failed match, trying to improve. Getting married was a serious commitment, and he resolved not to do it until he was entirely ready, at least as much as possible. After pulling away from dating, self development work and a steady job consumed several years of his life. One day he logged on to Facebook and saw an announcement from Ella. She was diagnosed with cancer. He joined the flood of well wishes in the comments, but declined to reach out privately. His visits to her page became more frequent, and he watched as her posts grew less bubbly and further apart. When they stopped altogether for a week, he sent a message. After no response, he dug through his contacts and called her old number. "Alex, is it really you?" Her voice was so much thinner and weaker than he remembered. "I've been in the hospital. My husband is with someone else. He says he wants a divorce." "I'll be right there." He brought an enormous bunch of colorful daisies. Alex stayed by Ella's side through endless rounds of chemo, surgery, rehab and recovery. He didn't offer to make it a relationship again, only spent as much time together as possible, doing what he could. "Alex, you've been so loyal and patient. What are your intentions?" "Whatever you want. I just want to be here for you." "I think it's time we made this more than a friendship." She held his hand. The day Ella was declared cancer-free, Alex was there. "Are you sure you're ready, Alex? We've put this off for so long." "Ella, all my life I've been preparing to carry you home." Words: 642. Written for "Note: 48-HOUR CHALLENGE : Media Prompt Deadl..." |
This evening I'm settling in with a song given to me by my buddy Jeremy  . He likes to tease me about my obsession with    , so last week I challenged him to present me with a decent song off his own playlist and I'd listen and write about it for a change. (Thread here: "February 22, 2025"  )Sampha is a musician from London, of Sierra Leone heritage, and this song, a single off his 2017 debut album Process, deals with the loss of his mother to cancer. My first impression at the opening is that it's a lovely piano line. I'm not generally a fan of "piano ballads," as the ones I know fall into the monotonous category of early aughts The Fray and whatnot, but this comes across as more classical, simple and soulful. Indeed, the instrumental is a bit like a piece one might hear at the Hobby Lobby. (If you don't know Hobby Lobby music, you don't know  )Sampha's voice is clear and sincere, and the song is lightly produced, with almost no effects other than the faintest of drumbeats and a vocal stacking at 1:40. I can even hear birds singing in the moment of silence at the end. He sings of the important role the piano has played in his and his mother's lives, keeping them close, holding his most precious memories and the deepest pain. Emotions impossible to express can be poured out in music, and he tells how from an early age the piano was his best friend, helping him navigate life's joys and tragedies. This is a beautiful song, with a peaceful, relaxing feeling. It makes me interested to learn what other works Sampha has made and what his overall style is. I would categorize this song as classical; it doesn't come across as what I think of as "soul" or "R&B" or whatever. It's a man, singing his heart out, accompanying himself on his piano. Nothing I could possibly find to criticize here. I'll be keeping this on my playlist, and I thank Jeremy for selecting it for me. When it comes to music videos, I often prefer to watch them through silently first, in case there's something I would rather not have associated with the song. This one passed the test, showing us Sampha at his piano and an angelic lady casting a spiritual essence. I will probably write a Bradbury story inspired by (No One Knows Me) Like the Piano in the coming weeks; perhaps I can connect it to a faith-based prompt. a note ▼ Words: 510. |
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