She squats in the attic of deserted music store. A world of mildewed record covers, warping vinyl, faded posters and yellow plastic 45 record centres. The river lapping at the front door; decay knocking at the back
She loves the colour green; the feel of chiffon against her skin. It makes a music all it’s own in rustles, and sighs, and crinkles.
She cranks up the hi-fi, and dances for no-one in her latest thrift shop find — green cons. Slithering like a snake; twisting upward like a vine; lily tucked behind her ear. She is fluid, she is motion, she is music.
Loses her green corded dream catcher, with the turquoise centre, on an adventure to free caged birds in the market square.
Dreams, set to show tunes and death-mental music, are images of post cards packed in19th century steamer trunks, that dance away in the night.
She is Music. She will dance away too.
Inspired by Mindlovemisery’s Writing Prompt Collage #132
@ my frilly Freudian slip
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October 23, 2016 at 9:58 pm
The centre of everything revolves here. Interesting story my darling
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October 23, 2016 at 11:37 pm
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October 23, 2016 at 5:14 pm
I enjoyed this one Miss Frilly, something hauntingly nostalgic about the memories it evokes.
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October 23, 2016 at 7:59 pm
I grew up listening to show tune records played on a hi-fi similar to the one music girl sits on — making me think of vinyl and 45 centers. Of times past.
Glad you enjoyed the post, kind sir.
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October 23, 2016 at 7:36 am
I love this! This is my long gone youth! It’s so familiar it hurts! The ‘world of mildewed record covers, warping vinyl; and, in my case, the river lapping at the back door and decay knocking at the front! And I love the description of the chiffon dress: ‘It makes a music all it’s own in rustles, and sighs, and crinkles.’
The snake part reminds me a little of Joni Mitchell’s ‘The Jungle Line’: ‘Slithering like a snake; twisting upward like a vine; lily tucked behind her ear.’ (Joni wrote:’In a low-cut blouse she brings the beer / Rousseau paints a jungle flower behind her ear’ and ‘There’s a poppy wreath on a soldier’s tomb / There’s a poppy snake in a dressing room / Poppy poison poppy tourniquet / It slithers away on brass like mouthpiece spit’.
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October 23, 2016 at 11:36 pm
Missing reply — they disappear — I wonder if they appear on someone else’s blog?
Thanks for the praise. Some lines came easy, others seemed determined not to be born!
I’d forgotten The Jungle Line, but have it’s rhythms in my head before even searching it out. Thanks for the reminder.
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October 23, 2016 at 6:12 am
What a bewitching and vivacious portrait you have painted!
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October 23, 2016 at 6:36 am
It was the image in green — I love converse running shows and grew up listening to show tune records on a similar hi-fi stereo that gave me the sense of her.
Thank you. : ] :
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October 23, 2016 at 6:40 am
That image featured beautifully in your work. I loved that image as well!
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October 23, 2016 at 1:58 pm
Thank you! : ] :
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