Eventually Avery understood why he never invited to play at the home of his friend Johnny. It was a simple reason that has been a part out the deep south since men first settled there. For Avery, not allowing his best friend to know that he knew the reason was the color of his skin was tougher on him than the reality of not being allowed there in the first place.
We are a growing community of blogging writers who come together each week from all parts of the globe to share individual flash fictions from a single photo prompt (above). The prompt goes up early Wednesday morning CST to give each writer time to compose a story by Friday. Some use the photo as a mere inspiration while others use it as an illustration. Use your imagination and think outside the box.
I am over on words, but I couldn’t cut back much more. In fact, this is just a clip from a story I am writing which came to mind when I saw the contrast in the two cellos side by side. Actually, the photo was perfect. The two cellos are protected by the wooden box. From all things on the outside. Here is what came to mind when I saw the image above. I call it “Beautiful Music”
After riding our bikes on the church grounds, I sat on the steps with best friend Monty. Two ten-year old kids in a rural southern town enjoying a summer day together.
A bike approached. The man on the bike said “We don’t like coloreds on our side town. Go home.”
Racism. I learned of it at the expense of my best friend, who was black. All I could say was “Sorry man.”
Monty smiled and said “You take cello lessons right?”
“Yes I do.”
“We are like two cellos except our exterior is different shades,” he replied. “We have the same number of strings. We’re shaped the same. When played we sound the same. Just beautiful music.”