Her hands trembled as she clasped the door-knob. With a heavy heart, she opened the door and walked inside. She began her daily chore of keeping each piece of instrument sparkling clean.

She remembered the first mouth-organ she had bought him as a kid. Since then, his collections kept growing as his love for music expanded and grew beyond his home ~ out to the whole world. His music was something everyone swore by. She looked fondly around his-studio touching lovingly the objects he so loved.

He’ll be back to play them again someday. She refused to believe he was dead.

This 100 words post is for Friday Fictioneers - ( Image Copyright – Rochelle Wisoff-Fields )
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  1. A legacy to an artist often remain like that..

  2. Anonymous06:03

    Dear Nandini, Such a great story and so sad. I think she loved him very much. It is sort of a shrine to him and your story is wonderful! Nan :)

  3. Ouch - it's hard to keep that kind of dream alive.

  4. Oh, so sad Nandini. You stirred up the emotions.

  5. thanks a lot @everyone :-)


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