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 |   Blog Challenge And Other Tidbits |
| An opinion or two...or three or four... |
PROMPT July 17th How important is the role of music in your life and in your creative process? Do you write to music? If so, what kind and why do you think it helps? Collin was annoyed. Well, maybe not annoyed. Maybe it was twitchy. Yes, that was it. Twitchy. Because whenever Collin was annoyed he was also twitchy. His gnarly little fingers tapped whatever surface they were near, gaining speed as he allowed them to tap. Sometimes they tapped so fast it felt like Collin's fingers didn't belong to Collin. He'd sneer at his fingers tap, tap, tapping, and then with the other hand he'd rub his face and chin as if wondering how to make the tapping stop. His hairy little feet tapped too. Tap, tap, tap. Same as his fingers, his feet would tap so fast they'd make his leg jiggle. Repulsive. That's what Collin thought. If only he could control that annoying tapping. But why? Why was Collin twitchy and annoyed? Why were his fingers and feet tapping so furiously? Collin thought about that. He rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling while the tapping continued. Hmmm...maybe it was that one fancy trick that failed. Or maybe it was the trap that didn't trap anything at all. Or maybe it was that vexing Fiona with her sweet voice and lovely brown eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that Collin had, for the first time in his life, an honest-to-goodness and true life migraine. Collin didn't know. And Collin didn't care. All he knew was that he had to stop that infernal tapping! So Collin thought. And thought some more. Collin was good at thinking so he tended to take his time. And then...after some thought...in Collin's opinion some of his best thought, he had an idea and he knew what to do! Collin jumped from his chair and ran to his cupboard where he kept odds and ends and stuff he intended to use one day. He dug and he dug, throwing all manner of stuff this way and that. With his feet still tapping and his hands raking through junk, Collin finally found the thing that he sought. Aha! There it was! The one record Collin kept for an emergency just like this. Sure the record was old, and he'd have to dust off the ancient record player that sat somewhere in his tiny cottage. But the record he had, and the record he'd play! It was music for his soul. From a long time ago. But it was filled with flutes, whistles, bagpipes, and harps. Drums in the background and a fiddle to boot. He'd sit back and rest and let the strains flow through his soul. Yes, that would ease his mind. It would give him peace. And once he was wrapped in the notes and the words of his past, he could let the day go. Who cares if a trick didn't work or a trap fell flat? And who cares if Fiona was back in his life? Well, she wasn't really back in his life. But she was there all the same. And maybe, just maybe the headache would go. Collin closed his eyes and sat back in his chair. The record was playing and the music filled his soul. Yes, that's what Collin needed. Music to fill his soul. |
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