The calm after the storm by B F Jones

The grand piano lays discarded by the mossy path. 

She sits on the frayed velvet of the wooden stool long rooted into the ground. 

She slowly runs her finger up and down the black and white ivory. 

The keys grin at her shining bright in the darkness and she feels her fingers growing heavy with uncontrollable urge. 

She presses a high note, the sharp sound echoing among the sudden flapping of hundreds of birds; a low one, rippling through the rustling of thousands of leaves. 

She presses them all, her hungry fingers gorging on off-key sounds, unleashing a storm of wicked music twisting through the night.

When she’s done, she lifts the lid, lies down on a bed of strings and sleeps her final sleep. 

B F Jones is French and moved to the UK in 2002. She lives there with her husband, three children and two cats. 

She is the co-editor of Punk Noir Magazine and has poetry and flash fiction in various online venues. Her poetry debut, The Only Sounds Left, and flash fiction collection, Artifice, are both published by Alien Buddha and available from Amazon.