Every time he heard the song, he thought of her. The sparkling piano, the melody, the words all combined to put her image before him, as if she were still in his life.
Whenever the familiar strains came to his ears, no matter where he was, tears would fill his eyes.
Once he even found her number, dialed it, let it ring three times before hanging up in fear that she would be there – or wouldn’t.
And then came the day when he realized that he wasn’t in love with her at all. He was in love with the song.
Other Micro Monday writers:
Pete Lit (our inadvertent founder)
Writers, join the parade. Drop me a line. Get linkage.
Listening (and inspiration):
she wanders down the hallway
in a long black dress
and lingers by the fireplace
like a faint caress
just what it is that brings her here
no man alive can say
see her for a moment
then she melts away
(via iPod Shuffle)