Last one of this little batch! For my piece today, I started thinking about resonant spaces inside us that enable us to make sounds. A tiny flash fiction about a washed-up opera singer popped into my head, so here it is for your entertainment.
Once again, the brilliant Ann Cuthbert has been having fun with these prompts – we’ve begun to joke that we should co-author a pamphlet of them. Listen to the music in this one…
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about my ears – Caliban, The Tempest
The tunnel curves like bangles round an arm.
Spiders dangle, dumb; spin jungles.
Rain thrums on corrugations, strums angles.
Thumbs tingle. You’re following crumbs,
wangling a way out. Keep schtum.
Candle tumbles. Shadows gangle.
Huge thanks also to first-time contributor to this Strange Prompts projects, Alison Curry, with this lovely poem:
With shielded ears
The echoes rise
Stings the eyes
Within narrow walls
Gasps of air
A glint of light
From a memory when
Wasn’t- all was right
Beyond the darkness
Dust clears to light