Prompt 45

Write about a violin.

Prompt 44

Write about pitching a pitch.

Prompt 43

Write about ten pastries.

Prompt 42

Write about all of those different colored hats.

Prompt 41

Write about the storm.

"A Human in Her" by Anonymous

I struck a chord, and then I tied one around my neck. Wonder which one I'll pass out from first.

I guess I was just on the street corner playing, and I guess that means that no one knew that I was in error (at least that's what the rational person would think), but I panicked further. God, I'm going to put such a bullet in my brain when I get out of here. Practice and practice and what the hell came from it? A Db Minor 7th? Damn. And, y'know, scratch that. It'd be a C# Minor 7th. What the hell am I thinking? I'm a failure.

I'll go home and no one will be there. I'll take out a piece of paper, write on it for awhile, and be done when I realize I'm incapable. Then I'll take out another piece of paper to draw on, following that with getting up and eating something from the fridge because I know I can't kid myself with talent in that area either. Then, I'll sleep. And I'll dream. I really do achieve consciousness in the wrong dimension, I feel.

...

I woke only a half hour later that day, wondering why I still wanted to be alive in this specific place. I was, only ten minutes ago, playing a minuet I had composed for a girl who had walked by me on the street, and she stopped to listen. She watched my fingers travel up and down each key - the other hand running up and down each 5th - and she was happy. And I was happy. And I had met a reasonable person for once in my life.

She shared a laugh with me.

Prompt 40

Write about a chord.

Prompt 39

Write about clocks. Write about fox.