“How To Restring a Guitar”

There was a red-bearded man on the airplane playing a guitar. His hips were gyrating in the seat which later caused a female passenger to wake up heatedly from a dream. I sat warily in the seat next to him. He eyed me and thanked me for not being fat. At first I felt offended, then relieved. Maybe the yoga and the evening cardio was paying off. Let’s hope the third seat is empty or that they aren’t fat, cause they always are, he said. A lovely Georgian woman accidentally dropped her suitcase on his head. She giggled sheepishly but her apology was never heard. She sat in the seat next to me. She is not fat. The red-bearded man smiled at me knowingly. This flight wouldn’t be uncomfortable. The plane lifts off and a trance overwhelms the woman’s golden face. She prays that the flight will glide peacefully and whisks out two books. One is about physics and the other was written by Frederick Nietzsche. The man nods considerately at her choices and asks if he can play us a song. He takes out his guitar and sings a song that could play in the background of a forbidden and taboo love story. The flight attendant asks him to stop and to put the guitar away. You will disturb the other passengers, she hisses. The man pays for drinks for all of us. We talk of the people we see in mirrors. We talk of the actors we could be, but aren’t.

When the plane lands, all the passengers clap. They are clapping for us.

Related Posts
Filter by
Post Page
Featured Fiction New Fiction The Story Behind the Story
Sort by

“Doc Oils”

  Bolinas Seventies – 48 clicks by ‘Nam talk but a time warp from civilization which refugees’re ra
2019-05-22 11:14:19
gsarnat

0

“Righteous Bliss”

Even after several weeks, Amos fell asleep in righteous bliss. He had struck back at them. A whole busload,
2019-05-20 09:21:08
gordoncash

0

“Pictures At An Exhibition”

You won’t see the picture. It fell out of the box she carried from the house tonight. There’s a footprint on it. Tha
2019-05-18 07:01:28
makiefsky

0

The Story Behind the Story: “Pictures At An Exhibition”

I think by the time you’ve reached middle age—unless you married your sweetheart in high school, and stayed mar
2019-05-17 08:23:26
makiefsky

0

“Doorkijkje”

Tess walks from the Met through Central Park. It is Saturday morning and the park is crowded with a fun run. The
2019-05-15 09:22:42
melgoode

0

“A Jack Daniels kind of Bullet”

It would have taken me a million years to kiss all her freckles. They were littered across her skin, poured on her
2019-05-13 09:22:11
katiepearce

0

“The Nature of Trees”

Acorns. Smallness. Roundness. Small brown oval things. Spherical objects. Anything small, anything round.
2019-05-10 23:28:01
terri

0

“So Small a Spark”

It is not simply that the tree is going to snap its hinge and kill him.  There is such a rich history here.  The t
2019-05-08 11:00:13
shiehd

0

“The Stairs”

They are right there as soon as you open the door to your mother’s house, in an almost too close for comfort way. S
2019-05-03 07:55:05
nicholedecker

0

“Highball”

He’s in the soft green center of the fourteenth fairway when the shouting starts. Steve cranes his head back toward t
2019-05-01 09:20:40
tclakin

0

Melissa Burton

About Melissa Burton




WP Twitter Auto Publish Powered By : XYZScripts.com