Friday, May 2, 2014

Stay Tuned (#FlashFictionFriday*)

Muffled by distance, trees, and houses, the factory forges dropped over and over, thudding through the night, the pulse of the earth, a bass beat to the night music.

Windows opened to the slightly cooler outside air, the sounds of crickets and other night critters added syncopated chirps and clicks to the dark chorus.

Dodging sleep, he plugged one ear with a bud connected by umbilical wire to his transistor radio. His thumb firmly on the ridged dial, he tuned slowly, pausing at each station trapped in his hand. He listened until call letters and locations were given during the station identification.

In bed with him were a flashlight, a pad of paper, and a pencil. He jotted each station’s information, keeping track of his secret nightly travels and visitors.

Elvis, Cash, the Statesmen, the Happy Goodmans, Gilberto, Getz, Mozart, Bach, Hardin, Nyro, and more came to him there in his room.

With the just right atmosphere and a friendly wind, he was amazed from how far away the stations came to him, their electrical impulses mixing with those in his febrile brain.

Sometimes there were voices that seemed to come from further distances. They spoke in tongues he could only assume were French or Spanish or something else.

He was supposed to be sleeping but there was so much distance to cover. He imagined each place as the music and talk fed into his ear. One day, maybe, he’d visit these foreign lands of Chicago, Detroit, Nashville, Windsor, New York City, and beyond.

He lay in bed, calling his thoughts back to himself like reeling in a kite. Then, asleep, his kited brain flew again to countries even he couldn’t imagine awake. Some enchanted, some not.

As he flew, music swelled in his ear, the soundtrack of his dreams.

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* It's flash fiction Friday! (To learn more about FFF, click here and scroll down.) Flash fiction is nothing more or less than a very, very short short story.
Not counting the title, this one is right at 300 words. What do you think?

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