A new story. Imagining a time in the future. Click here.
Chairs
It was a test. They knew it. Four young people: one 28, one 27, one 26 and one 25 years old–male, female alternately. Two were musicians, two were not–all educated. No one told them it was a test. They instinctively and immediately realized this when they filed into the room and saw the four chairs–spaced exactly 24 inches apart–in a row. Each chair was different, like out of a museum. Perhaps they were museum pieces.
The 26 year old thoughtfully looked from chair to chair and then from face to face. After a few moments he moved in front of the high back wooden chair positioned directly beneath one of three stained glass windows. He bent over and examined the chair. After a moment, he straightened and glanced to his right. The 28 year old had quietly moved to his side. She was absorbed, examining the short wooden chair with arms. A horizontal, dark stained glass window through which no light could pass was behind and above it.
She felt his eyes upon her and looked his way. Her nod was almost as imperceptible as his. Together they left the room, she leading , he silently following.
The 27 year old shrugged her shoulders as she watched them leave.
“Shall we?” She held our her hands to the chairs.
He shook his head. Then smiled with his eyes. In two strides he was upon the chairs, moved two in front of the others.
She sat. He sat. They removed their music from their bags and placed it on the chair backs. He played flute, she percussion.
(C) Glenda Kotchish
January 18, 2017
VMFA American Wing
Images from pixabay.com
Trash Day
Here’s a short, short story. Hope you like it.
Sojourn…a Short, Short Story
I’ve been busy, moving here and there. Networking with the art world in RVA. It’s been hot in Virginia, probably more so in North Carolina…here’s a story, very short. I hope you enjoy.
Glenda
Patty
She came back today–in a little wooden box–just her ashes. I’m glad to have even that small part of her. It may sound crazy, but I don’t care.
There was a card, “Patty, loved by the Kotchish family”. She was--loved by me. I miss her little grey and gold face and her brown eyes.
From time to time, I hear her toe nails clattering on the wood floors. And sometimes a glimpse of her out the corner of my eye. Is it a memory in my brain or something else? Who cares. Patty, I miss you, little one. Thanks for hanging out with me while you did.
June 28, 2016
GMK
A short story about Packing.
Here’s a story–something we all go through–packing up and making changes. Click here.
Wishes
Close your eyes
Make a wish
And an offering
Now walk away
It is done.
(c) Glenda Kotchish
May 18, 2016
- Part of an opening to a new story…Black Creek
On Associating–a poem
A little poem, which might become a short story, someday. Click here.
The Finer Things in Life…a short story
A young woman goes to the park for lunch and encounters the finer things in life. Click here to read the story.
A short-short story…Time and Space
Here’s a new story, very short–a doctor appointment to a new location, miles away. Click here to read.