The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #34


The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #34

One Picture

One Element

One Emotion

200 Words

A woman playing the piano in an indoor windstorm

A change of heart

A wolf

Please add your story in the comments below.


7 thoughts on “The Iron Writer Weekend Quickie #34

  1. She hammered the keys on the piano but the music never came. Her frustration grew, her heart beat dangerously fast. A knock at the door left her paralysed.
    “Let me in, let me in!”
    The wolf was at her door but she needed to practise, she had no time for interruptions.
    “No, no, I won’t let you in. I’m busy.”
    “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house down!”
    The windows flew open and the wolf blew with all his might, at first displacing only the sheet music from the piano, but pretty soon creating a small tornado which filled the room. Alice, for some reason still in her sleeping gown, desparately tried to reach the keys and play her piece while being pulled into the strong current swirling around her, sheet music hitting her face.
    “What’s the time, Mr. Wolf?”
    “Time enough…to eat you!” The wolf jumped in through the window and pounced on her. She woke up with a start, sweat oozing from every pour. Looking at her clock, she saw that it was the morning.
    “Mum! I’ve had a change of heart! I don’t think I’ll play ‘Peter and the Wolf’ for my recital!”

  2. A Change of Tune

    Actually, Little Red Riding Hood was on her way through the woods to Grandma’s house when she happened across the big bad wolf. He was resting against a tree after having tried and tried to get himself a juicy pork meal out of three little pigs. “Hey there, little Red Riding Hood. You sure are lookin’ good. You’re every thing a big bad wolf would want.”

    “Why thank you, Mr. wolf,” she replied.
    “How’s about you and me goin’ for a little walk down by the stream, sweetheart?” suggested the wolf.

    “Oh, Mr. wolf, sir I’ve heard about your powerful big blow. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you and I just skip on over to Granny’s place. I wanna see if you’re as good as I’ve heard.”

    Well, the wolf didn’t know exactly what she meant by that, but hey!, So they both scooted on over.

    Once inside, Red poked a trumpet at the wolf, and said, “Dig it; you blow the horn and I’ll pound the ivories. Red commenced to beatin’ out some boogie, and the wolf let out with a blast that shook the house.
    “I dig it, baby!” cried the wolf, and he never looked back.

    He’s playin’ at the Bistro tonight!

  3. ‘The piano will stay put,’ James said. ‘This air-blaster will lift everything else up.’

    ‘Then what? Do I fall?’ Sully asked.

    ‘I’ll slow it gradually,’ he promised.

    Sully positioned herself at the piano which hid the air-blaster from the camera. James turned on the machine and suddenly Sully was reeling on a blast of air.

    ‘NO GOOD,’ James yelled as he shut down the air-blaster. ‘Your skirt billowed up, showing your knickers. Fine for some,’ he said with a wolf-like leer.

    Sully frowned. ‘Are you positive this photo will get you into Fine Arts?’
    ‘They’re looking for originality,’ he said. ‘Once more? ’Course, if you’ve had a change of heart….’

    Sully shrugged, rubbing her elbow.

    ‘Hold your music this time,’ he said.

    The air-blaster came on shooting her up. She had 3 seconds to pick out a tune with her right hand.

    ‘PERFECT!’ James yelled as he turned off the air-blaster. ‘Oops, sorry,’ he said as Sully landed with a thump. She grabbed her phone to see if it caught the whole thing. It had.

    Sully’s ‘Floating Fantasies’ went viral on You-Tube.

    James missed out on art school. They said he’d plagiarized the well-known ‘Floating Fantasies’. Sully promised to speak to them about it.

  4. I missed a note.

    Staring at me is my reflection in the gloss black of the concert grand. My eyes are intense orbs, calculating and intelligent like those of a wolf. Despite this, I feel as though gravity has failed me and I am barely holding on, ready to float away.

    This moment in time stands utterly frozen, and infinitely terrible.

    On the main stage in the Isaac Stern Auditorium at the magnificent Carnegie Hall, I sit before my piano. My white satin gown glows ethereally under the brilliant wash of the spotlight. Surrounded by twenty-eight hundred people, but utterly alone, my heart pounds deep like the hammer over the A-zero string.

    Never have I experienced stage fright, until now. Have I had a change of heart? Has my internal compass gone haywire and my subconscious subverted my lifelong dreams?

    As if onstage, I clearly hear as an audience member clears his throat.

    Something pops inside my head. Time unsticks. My fingers, as though of their own volition, resume without fail to find the proper notes to the piece I was playing. You might have heard the old line about how to get to Carnegie Hall.

    It’s no joke.

  5. Another sweltering night without air conditioning. In her sleep, Valerie’s satin gown clung to her slender legs and small breasts. The body of a dancer, but she had chosen the piano. It sat in another room, gathering dust, its top a place for frames and the antique metronome. She was terrified of learning how to play since the disease had taken her sight.

    Valerie dreamed of a silver wolf. It laid the moist tip of its nose on her outstretched palm, and in her dream she awakened. The wolf padded to the window and looked to the full moon, which stole into the room, infusing the dark with a glow.

    The wolf called to the moon and a breeze ruffled Valerie’s hair. It became wind, and then a torrent of air that lifted her from the bed. And she was flying. To the piano. She reached to the sheets of clefs and fractional notes, but they snapped away from her grasp.

    Then the wind softened to a whisper, lowering her onto the floor, raising her from the depths of her dream.

    And Valerie sat at the piano and played with her whole heart. Her changed heart.

  6. A grave mistake
    Danielle Lee Zwissler
    Little red was in her home, playing the piano when she heard the knock on her door.
    “Who is it?” she asked, wondering if her grandmother had finally taken her up on her invitation to come out and have dinner.
    “It’s me,” called the voice.
    Red didn’t recognize the deep sound, so she kept playing. Her fingers hit the keys softly and the music filled the room once more, until the knock sounded again.
    “Who’s there?” she asked.
    “If you don’t let me in, I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll…”
    “Blow my house down?” she asked, jokingly.
    “Yes, that’s what I’ll do!”
    “Go ahead. You’re not getting in here,” Red said, and then put her fingers back on the keys.
    “You asked for it!” yelled her visitor. She felt the wind come at the small house, and with it, a window blew out, and the sheet music flew around as if the house would come apart at any moment, and then she heard the voice once more.
    “Open the door!”
    “No way!”
    “Please?” cried the voice.
    Having a change of heart, Red decided to go check the door. It was who she suspected all along. Her grandmother.
    She opened the door, and allowed her grandmother in, only to find out that she wasn’t there to sample her dinner, she was there to eat her. She was the wolf in her grandmother’s clothing.
    (ba dum dum I’ll be here all night. Lmfao)

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