Discovering Secret Paths: flash fiction and soundscapes
Above, a flash soundscape of Oratorio for a wreck. You can follow the reading in the text below.
Sunday. An Orthodox choir sang in the cliff top church: an Oratorio for those lost at sea. A breeze blew off the bay bringing with it a strong smell of salt and seaweed. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach below mingled with the tenors and altos.… (read more)
The nuts didn’t taste so good, but it was all he had left to eat. He tried to make each one last as long as possible, chewing it till it became a warm liquid that dribbled down his throat without him even having to swallow. The rain had began to fall again, a heavy downpour that would have drenched his clothes if he hadn’t been wearing regulation waterproofs. The ruin offered little shelter.… (read more)
The last boat had left an hour earlier, well before nightfall with its cargo of merrymakers and adventurers and would-be traders. The peals of laughter had died away as had the whispered promises of parted loved-ones. The place donned a forlorn but expectant air as the light faded and the wind rose. He surveyed the scene from the dense clump of bushes where he crouched hidden. No one would disturb his vigil, for the village people were afraid after dark down by the lake.… (read more)
“Lie on your back, but keep you eyes open,” the voice said. “Good. Now steady your breathing. No don’t force it. Just relax and let your muscles work on their own.” The voice itself seemed to calm as it continued. “Concentrate on the Moon. Not just with your eyes, but also your ears, your nose, your mouth, your skin...” What had seemed at first a deep masculine voice had shifted imperceptibly, its tone rising gradually till it was more like a woman speaking.… (read more)
He couldn’t at first pinpoint where the whispered children’s voices where coming from. But as he noiselessly neared the tree he caught sight of the two of them perched on a branch high above him, their two heads close together, deep in secret conversation. They clearly hadn’t noticed him. They must have tired of the family gathering which was into its second day and slipped away unnoticed by their parents. The twins spent much of their time together since their mother had died.… (read more)
She lay back on the warm grass of the high pastures and looked up at the sky afire with the setting sun. It had been a hot day. “I don’t know the answer,” she said out loud though nobody was there to hear her but her dog and the sheep. “Why would he ask me such a question?” She folded her hands together behind her head and sang softly the song her mother had taught her just before she died.… (read more)
“In every picture there’s many a story,” he said as he lent forward to look more closely at the picture of the two musicians. “Take these two, for example,” he added, glancing at the young girl that sat across the table from him before turning his attention back to the picture. “They’re called Mujigka. They’re very good. I heard them the other evening with my parents,” she informed him.… (read more)
Since her mother died life had been plagued by a series of mishaps and lesser catastrophes. Not that she didn’t enjoy preparing the food for her uncle and cleaning his house, she prided herself on her ability to do the work well and efficiently, but conditions were hard and he was strict and unforgiving. On the rare occasions that she was left to herself with nothing to do, she ventured out onto the balcony, making sure that nobody caught her there, and stared down the narrow alley in the direction of the market place.… (read more)