Rock Star, Jr.

Dad’s a rock star. You know the type. Wild hair. Leather pants. Naked-lady tattoos. He’s never around for any father-and-son stuff, always away on some sold-out stadium tour.

For my 12th birthday, he gave me one of his old Gibsons. He didn’t have time to show me any chords, so I taught myself. I’ve been practicing every day.

He’s coming home after six months on the road, and I can’t wait for him to hear all the amazing riffs I’ve learned.

Because even if he doesn’t think a son deserves his attention, he’s got to appreciate a fellow musician, right?

From Guest Contributor Lori Cramer

Noise

Walking down the street, he stops and listens. There’s so much going on around him that he has trouble making out any specific sound on its own. The cacophony of everything around him is almost deafening. People are talking on the phone. Cars are racing down the street, honking. There’s a poor musician playing for tips. He can’t stand any of it. The sound of people shuffling around him is the worst of it, he thinks. All his life, the only thing he’s wanted was silence. He hears a whistle, then a boom, and then after that he hears nothing.

From Guest Contributor Chris Ellsworth

Their Tale

The day after they were introduced to each other, the author sent a message.“I’m planning on writing a story about a young, talented and beautiful female musician, thousands of miles away from home. But I’ve still got some research to do. I thought maybe you’d like to help me out.”

“Is it a love story?” she asked.

“It might just turn out to be one of the greatest love stories ever told,” he answered.

“Do you think it’ll have a happy ending? I love happy endings.”​From that moment on, they both knew her story also became his.From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°1968 - Ronse, Belgium) started writing short fiction whilst recovering from a sports injury and hasn't stopped since.

Musician

Annika Dagmar, skilled with a violin, had dreamed of playing on stage with other musicians entrancing the audience. That would’ve been possible had there been no war.

Priceless paintings and other expensive belongings were sold to have food on the table, except Annika’s violin and case. Her father didn’t have the heart to sell them.

The war had ruined Annika’s family and many other Jewish Germans throughout the country.

“It’s not safe to live here. We must leave everything and go tomorrow before things get much worse,” said Mr. Dagmar.

The violin would never be touched by Annika’s fingers again.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher