Hardship

Leftiness

Writing a story for/from the music is something I might continue doing:

“He came in today, stoic as ever,” told she, the harp. The chords about casually listened in as she told. The high piano entered statefully with pride, an old man in ragged and dirty soldier’s uniform. Everything stopped momentarily in respect… but, eventually, life went on. “Let me help,” the harp pushed, coming forward from behind the counter, but the mayor of the occupied village pulled away. Injured, he hobbled with his staff. Emotional. Tearful. Heartbreaking. He struggled with his purchase, a small bag of flour, and he uneasily balanced on his less-injured leg to reach deep in his pocket, withdrawing a paltry sum. Laying it roughly on the counter. Lifting his load, he stepped away and kept going, proud, as in the introduction, bearing his hardship - the village’s hardship with pride. Life went on.