The door opens. I stare, open mouthed. What was once filled with files and baby toys was now full of instruments and recording equipment.
Damn it. He’s going to do it.
Once I stood in awe of his talent, fame certain. I hated him for his potential, hating myself for my mediocrity. But life had intervened, his dreams replaced by billable hours, school holidays. I was comfortable.
I’ll be left behind.
Reaching out, my finger leaves a clear line in dust already settled on the cymbal.
My anxiety disappears.
“Awesome!” I say with a smile, “Show me how it works!”
(Word count 101)
What’s this? Two posts in one day?
I have become addicted to my view count, my daily likes and comments, and during my sickness could only watch as these dwindled to nothing. Ah, favourite crutch for my self esteem! How could I neglect you WordPress, I’m sorry, come back to me, I can change!
More seriously, the blog is like a garden, if I don’t come in and give it some water and TLC, then it isn’t going to produce any fruit.
This is a Friday Fictioneer 100 word challenge, from Rochelle’s Blog.
Let me know what you think in the comments. I had a vibe I wanted to get across, but I could have used another 50-100 words. Did I get there? Did I miss it?
Click on the weird frog link above to read some of the other posts, there are always a great mix of takes on the weekly prompt, and some really talented writers too.