She’s back from the hospital.
For the first time in twenty-five years, she’ll be home for Christmas. No more touring.
I suppose I knew what I was getting when I married her. She was fond of reminding me herself. In truth, it was when I saw her play that I truly fell in love with her. Her hands calling the beautiful music from the cello cradled in her legs like a beloved child.
Of course there were no children. There was her, me, and the cello. Three of us.
A kinder man would put the cello back in its case.
Etched with acid. Lovely
A twisted last line. Excellent.
The bitterness is finely balanced with love. Well done.
Such a hard story told in such a soft voice. Excellent.
A beautiful story laced with irony.
We tend to fall in love with someone and then we try to change them. I am glad he didn’t try to change her.
Have you ever seen the film Autumn Sonata… there is some similar sentiments there… but I guess she will be all his now.
Why bother posing questions, when he never answers, Björn?
I rarely do answer comments, it’s true. This isn’t fun rudeness, but a lack of time. I’m working a full time job, helping raise two kids and writing a novel as well as looking for an agent for my previous work, so I rarely even have time to read everyone’s stories and comment on them. I do try to write a few each week, but even that is hard. JHC
I hear you and totally understand…
I have not! But I can understand how art overwhelming a relationship would definitely be a good theme.
There are years of resentment built behind these lines – sacrifice given unwillingly. A bitter tone which perfectly matches the tale.
Oh the pain and joy of having to choose between two things you like. You want your cake as well as to eat it!
There is such a feeling of regret, great piece of writing
Dear J Hardy,
So many emotions interwoven; anger, love, regret…and I think the list could go on. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Love the build up to the last line!
Your take on the prompt really resonated with me. My grandmother was a child prodigy concert pianist. She returned from London to Australia in 1940 during hte war and met my grandfather shortly afterwards and they were married six months later. They had a miniature grand piano on their wedding cake. I only picked up that detail from a press clipping, which is a real shame because I wish I’d been able to ask her about it. Naturally, the symbolism struck me. That my grandfather was marrying my grandmother and the piano. She had to practice for 5 hours a day so he can’t have been deluded. They were Catholic and ended up having 7 children but my grandmother’s career continued. She had her debut at Carnegie Hall in 1948 and was living in the US for 12 months, leaving her husband and three young sons behind. Her mother looked after my Dad who was 3 at the time and the other two went to boarding school and I think they were 5 and 6.
Despie having 7 children, my grandmother never really seemed to be into young kids. She later taught at the Sydney Conservatorium so she really was a woman before her time. here’s her obituary: http://www.smh.com.au/comment/obituaries/a-musical-career-honed-in-the-laundry-20090823-ev2w.html
xx Rowena
Marry the woman, marry her music. That’s the deal.
This line made me giggle: “She was fond of reminding me herself.”
I LOVE what you did with the closing, leaving me to imagine what he DID do with the cello (break it, perhaps). At the same time, I’m wondering if this implies that he had affairs, being so neglected and all.
(But now I go back for a reread and am reminded of the opening hospital line and realize that he beat the mess out of her and SENT HER to the hospital. You’re a twisted-awesome writer, dude.)
He’s stial resentful – her future as an invalid doesn’t look very rosy.
“There was her, me, and the cello. Three of us.” That says it all. Nicely done.
Fabulous juxtaposition of love and bitterness and revenge… so well balanced! That last line genuinely made me gasp!
And Shadenfreude makes the perfect title! A fabulous word.
If I were him, I’d see if I could travel with her.
The title says it all, it’s such harsh emotion, schadenfreude
Good story.