Eddy’s eyes strayed to the glittering guitar which hung behind the counter of the bar as he dusted.
Since he started working for Mrs. Hilley, he had wondered about it.
His eyes gleamed as he looked at it and the flaming guitar glowed brighter under his gaze.
He noticed that she touched it ever so often, dusted it with reverence and hung it back.
He had no idea what the story behind it was, but he couldn’t ask. There were rumours however, on one really knew the truth.
Since he was alone, he decided to play just a little bit. He hoped to own one some day soon.
Lost in the music the guitar’s flaming strings came alive and he failed to hear the door swing open.
Mrs. Hilley listened, tears ran down her face as he played haunting tunes.
Startled to find her watching him he hurried to hang it back but, she set two glasses of apple cider, sat him down to tell him the story of the flaming guitar.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
In response to the FFAW photo prompt above from Pixabay.com and Priceless Joy for this enchanting story platform
Pulitzer winning or not, journalists like to delve into every part of your anatomy and dig out dirty secrets when given the room to do so.
Sometimes, when I read articles or listen to tittle-tattle and junk news that smacks of downright breach of privacy as well as meanness with a good measure of desperate desires to hurt the other person, the quote ”that the heart of man is desperately wicked” comes to my mind.
The great urge to pull down and annihilate the other person takes primal position in their minds and in as much as I like honesty, being upfront and read as an open book, there are certain areas that I would be unwilling to discuss beyond the peripheral aspects.
Putting my family members under undue glare of the limelight is not something that I would be willing to entertain. I guess I will be suspicious about the reporters motive for asking prying questions about family, even if they are nicely and positively coined. I would rather their privacy is maintained, except where they were to choose otherwise.
Issues bordering on sexuality are not topics that I am likely to dabble into either. Oh yes! such hot topics sells the news, but, no thank you! I won’t be your next meal ticket!
I think that the excessive push of sexual boundaries and Mores in today’s world is part of the dysfunction that we are experiencing. Nothing seems to be private anymore! Individual sexual proclivities should be kept personal and not for public consumption. Sometimes, in the bid to say so much and show our fierceness, we hurt ourselves and others.
I am also not sure that I would be willing to discuss my future plans in any details. I like to hold some of my thoughts to my chest, knowing the fact that my tomorrow’s don’t lie in my hands. It leaves me feeling strange, as if I am putting the cart before the horse.
I guess I can pretty much talk about everything else including some dirty secrets in my garden! Who doesn’t have any secrets?
Sometimes, some secrets are even better kept open. That way, they loose their sting and the power to hurt the secret holder.
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
In response to The Daily Post prompt Trick Questions.
A Pulitzer-winning reporter is writing an in-depth piece — about you. What are the three questions you really hope she doesn’t ask you?
Seek Wisdom like nuggets to treasure;
Embrace her with every pleasure;
For she will give good measure;
Under all forms of pressure.
If I should tell you my secret;
Would you chirp it like a cricket?
Dragging down my spirit;
Just for a meal ticket.
To my heart, home is where you are;
Your warm embrace and distinct fragrance;
Pulls me in and gives me anchor;
From place to place;
Through seasons of time;
and the parade of many faces.
In response to Writing 101 Assignment 3: Prompts come in many different forms. Sometimes, a single word is all you need to get your mind’s wheels turning. Here are six words: Treasure, Regret, Home, Love, Uncertainty, Secret