Forget To Meet Again – November Picture Prompt Short Story Winner

Forget To Meet Again

By Hannah Aalderink

The music filled the forest again. It’s melody dipping and rising quickly, the piano keys plucked gently, strings resonating deep within the instrument. Every note blended expertly with the next, however the pedals remained still.

The player’s hands rose and fell with the melody, fingers dancing over and on keys. The hands of the musician were small, but the weight of the back and arms of the short, freckled boy playing enforced the sound. His eyes closed as he felt the beat.

Alone again was his happy place. Although, happy was quite possibly the wrong term. Observed by none but the world and the wildlife, the boy played once again, feeling the presence of the trees looming hundreds of feet above him.

To forget the day’s frustration.

The birds sang with him, their chorus strengthening his.

To forget the things he hated.

The wind whistled along, and the boy’s melody sang louder, his hands slamming the keys.

To forget the things he loved that hurt him.

C,G,F,G,A#,G,F,D# sang the piano.

To forget her. How could she just leave him?

The boy slammed his foot on the right pedal, his hands playing harder, hardly breathing in his anger.

She was supposed to love him, to protect him, to stay with him.

The animals wind in trees seemed to go quiet for the last few measures of his song.

She was supposed to be his mother forever.

The boy’s hands stopped. The last few notes hung in the air, ending on an odd CA# chord.

The boy sat down on his bench suddenly, lifting his hands delicately from the white keys of his piano.

The forest around him disappeared. Instead, the tall pale blue walls of his room materialized. The sound echoing in the space, the piano being the only furniture in the room.

He stared unblinkingly at the sheet music in front of him, it’s pages blowing dejectedly in the wind of the open window. He breathed heavily.

No, he didn’t want to forget. Not her.

The boy’s eyes watered, either from the biting chill of the empty house, or from the emotions he couldn’t ignore anymore.

First one, then two tears slid from under his glasses. The boy didn’t bother to wipe them away.

He hummed the tune of the song he’d been playing--the music his mother used to play for him.

He didn't want to think. To remember--or to forget. What had she told him last?

“We’ll meet again, Ian. Remember, Jesus loves you.”

He didn’t have to be alone. She’d left him, but not on his own.

Ian let out his breath and looked back to his piano. He set his hands down gently on the expensive keys, and pressed.

Immediately he was back in the forest, but this time, he wasn’t alone.

Artist Credit: https: //www.flickr.com/photos/60078257@N00/2974148724/

Congratulations Hannah!

This was a beautifully written story filled with sorrow and hope. This short story is almost like poetry as the purposeful and whimsical pros flows into a cohesive story that captures a precious moment in time. A style of pros that portrays the mood of the image wonderfully. Thank you so much for sharing your story with the Kingdom Hannah! It's pleasure to be able to share your work with the KeePers of Pen.

Want to participate in December's

Short Story Picture Prompt Contest?

Want to write a short based on the KP picture of the month to get a chance to be published in the Kingdom?

CLICK HERE to sign up to the KP newsletter where you'll receive monthly short story picture prompts that you can write and submit to the contest! This will earn you the chance of winning and getting published on the site!

Further details of next month's picture prompt contest will be entailed in the KP Newsletter