[Fiction] Friday Challenge for July, 18 2008:
Pick a character who loves the dark, and tell us why. Avoid the obvious choices: stealth, monsters, sex, and anything else you immediately thought of.
I close my eyes again. I can hear her fingers glide across the strings, her laboured breathing as she holds it between her legs. I can almost smell the sound now. Deep, rich, like black coffee.
She asked for a single light, apparently, she needs to see the instrument to be able to play it. I said no then, because I cannot hear it if the light is on. I allowed her a candle instead.
I drink in the sound. I can feel my vitality washing through my weary bodies. I needed this.
She has stopped playing. I can hear her heart pounding, and then her inner scream when I say play.
“Just one more,” I whisper, “just one.”
She drags the bow across the strings again. In the dark, the sound of the cello heals all my wounds.