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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2097587
A musician plays an old tune and gets more then what she bargained for.
Music flows though the room as Erinn practices her violin. Her eyes closed as she plays the tune. The music is old that she is practicing. She does not think of how many times she gone though the music to practice that day. She was on her third go though of the haunting melody. She finishes with a triumphant smile dancing on her lips.

As she removes her chin from her violin she hears someone clapping. She turns to look into the eyes of another being. His blond hair tousled and sun kissed. His crystal blue eyes looked her over. He was dressed casually. Dark wash jean jacket, dark wash jeans and some horror themed band shirt covered his body. Sun glasses perched on his head. Silver earrings glinted in the pale light of the room.

Erinn's bow falls from nerveless fingers. He catches it without much effort. He rescues her violin from the fate of its bow. She stares at him still befuddled that there was another person in the room with her. She lived alone in her ramshackle old farm house on the outskirts of town.

“Who are you?” Her voice quivers. “How did you get in?”

“You summoned me is how I got in.” His voice has that musical quality to it. His smile reassuring even as her heart pounded. “I am Apollo.”

“Apollo?!” Her voice broke as she said his name. She watches as he puts away her violin with care and shuts its case. “But but that's impossible.”

“You played the tune that summoned me here woman.” Apollo grins slightly. “What do you want of me?”

“I have a name.” Erinn felt her anger rise.

He laughs, “you have not given me a name to call yourself.”

She feels the flush heat her face. He was correct. She had not named herself to him. “I am Erinn O'Keefe. This is my home you are in.”

“It is not a palace but it is nice.” His voice rolls over to her. Warming parts of her that she thought could not be warmed. “You have done well here. No mate?”

“No, I do not have a partner in my life.” Her voice was soft with regrets. “No one stays. They always leave.”

“That happens Erinn.” Apollo looks over at her. “You have me for the evening. What do you want to do with me?”

Erinn found herself blushing. She struggled with her thoughts. Apollo watches her amused by the interplay with in her mind. “Could we sing together?” She finally asks him.

So they sang together in music. He seduced her with his voice. He touched her with his words in ways she had not been touched in a long time. She allows herself to fall under his spell. He allows her time to choose their steps in their dance of music.

Then they sang together in another way within her bedroom. Erinn had never felt such pleasure given from another. He played her like she played her instruments. Soon enough her eyes closed.

Apollo touched her lower stomach where her womb was. “You I think will be mad at me in a few months. I hope this gift will heal your wounds more.” He kisses her lower stomach. He then kisses her forehead. He fades away as she sighs in her sleep. Once again alone in her house in her bed.

She awakens the next day, she reaches for the god she slept with. Finding nothing she sits up finding herself alone. She blinks as the sun touches her skin. “Was is a dream?” She stands up. She takes stock of her bodies responses. “I am not sure it was a dream. My body sure says it was not a dream.”

She showers; she practices singing, and warming up her voice in the warm steam of the shower. She turns off the water. Drys off. Dresses. Goes and eats breakfast. “Did I really summon Apollo?”

She goes though her music. She does not find the old sheet music of the music she started practicing last night. “It's gone.” She pauses. “I don't remember it. I always remember every piece of music I learn. Play it three times and I know it without looking at sheet music ever again.” She touches her sheet music. “Its gone from here.” She touches her head. “And from here.”

One year later, she is playing her violin for her audience of one. In a cradle a baby boy coos as his mother plays for him. The music flows off her instrument in into his young ears. He learns what she is playing just by hearing her.

She stops playing to check his diaper. He is dry. “Well Accius Apollo, you are the best audience a woman could ask for.” She picks him up and holds him close. “You are such a wonderous gift. I was told I'd never have children. Now I have you.” She kisses him. “My beautiful baby boy.”
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