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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #1147287
Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge
Written for
Daily Flash Fiction Challenge Open in new Window. (13+)
Enter your story of 300 words or less.
#896794 by Arakun the twisted raccoon Author IconMail Icon


Prompt: X is an extraordinary person who has accomplished much in life. However, there is one thing X desires most…but it is the one thing that can never be for this person. Replace “X” with a name and describe a daydream s/he might have.

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The flautists are wonderful tonight. Their fingers fly, flashes of silver light reflected off their polished instruments. Concentration is etched in every face on the stage, the orchestra playing together as one living organism. The bows of the violinists zig and zag; the entire string section hums in continuous vibrations.

Sweat beads along the foreheads in the percussion section. The tympanis boom with such force that I can feel the shake in the floorboards. The conductor’s arms wave wildly across the allegrettos of the second movement, transitioning smoothly into the andantes of the third. He dances with his wand as a young lover and his mistress--together they are such a perfect pair it seems they were born for each other.

Faces in the audience drift to places far away, the music a vehicle that brings them to times remembered, and desires wished in secret. The lives of the spectators flash before my eyes in the sonorous silence in my ears. In the face of an old, wrinkled woman I see a girl with flowers in her hair. In the tears of a gentlemen a few rows behind her I find the pain of love lost too soon. The music swells and the expressions change, but the silence remains the same.

The applause is especially loud tonight. I have never felt such force of emotion in the clapping of the hands. The floorboards shift beneath my feet as the orchestra stands. Soloists step forward to receive their acknowledgement, their eyes shining in the pride of a job well done. I contribute my applause, my appreciation, my bittersweet jealousy of the music. At the end of the production I stand; the room erupts in shaking as vibrant as nearby thunder.

Above all else, I would like to hear the applause.
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