“It’s what I call the sound of the string before it’s plucked, or the sight of perfect darkness before the switch is flicked,” the man said to me. His son nodded and strummed a few notes as I scribbled in my notebook.
“Kinda like looking for the place you were before you were born, maybe the place you’ll go after you die,” the man added as he picked up his guitar. “Know what I mean?”
Without waiting for my response the two men looked at each other for a moment, paused, and launched into song.
I’ve passed the test…now I’m a doctoral candidate. This has some big repercussions: my wife getting her husband back, me not getting kicked out of school…but most importantly, I can rejoin Friday Fictioneers! Frantically studying seismology is not amenable to flash fiction writing. Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.
I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer. The weekly photo that inspired this story is below: