People come here to where the stars burned bright.
Stirring embers of memories, sifting through the ash They’re looking for Patsy, looking for Johnny Cash
Tourists ignore my singing, walk by my coin sprinkled case, go inside where it’s warm, go inside for ten-dollar drinks, where they’ll tip the band for playing lousy covers, tell them they sound real deal. Like they’d know.
They walk by they look right through me, unseen space between the stars Just another street bum, all I have is my guitar
Cold. It’ll be another sleepless night of shivering, of wishing underneath the stars.
Written for Carrot Ranch, December 28, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a wishing star. It can be central to the story or used in a different way. You can have a character interact or not. Go where the prompt leads. Respond by January 2, 2018 to be included in the compilation (published January 3). Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
Read the follow up story, Mother Church.
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I feel like the poetry in italics should be sung. Am I hearing that right?
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Yeah, she’s a singer/songwriter.
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Awwe, how hauntingly lyrical and beautiful.
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I’m glad if you like my story but there are some very cold street people in that town.
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One day she’ll be a star herself. I read about Joshua Bell – a world class violinist who treated commuters in Washington to a performance people pay mega dollars to hear. Of the 1097 people who passed him only 7 stopped to listen to him for more than a minute and he earnt less than $40. The experiment was repeated in London with a slightly better result. Out of approx 2000 people who passed 35 stopped and listened and 20 others stopped for awhile. So sadly, what hope has your girl got against covers. Good one D.
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That is an interesting share. People pay for context and what they think they want I suppose. Don’t recognize art out in the raw. Let alone support it.
Oh, look, it’s 2018. Have a good one, Irene.
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Or perhaps it shows the level we have tuned ourselves out to the world, preoccupied with our own destination not what lies in between.
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In our town during nice weather there are pianos painted and placed for any and all to use.
Though I don’t think there is any ‘pan-handling’ with it… just a place to play.
I think it was while visiting in San Francisco (while going from point a to b) that we actually saw some street musicians – also at the beach on the boardwalk in Maryland. Some draw a crowd. But I’m not sure how many contribute. That’s a tough way to be recognized. Reminds me of those street artists that paint themselves all one color and just stand there in one pose…
Yep… happy new year. Here’s to keeping my mouth free of my feeties. 🙂
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That resolution of yours will keep you on your toes.
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I love the way you included two definitions of “wishing stars.” A wonderfully complete piece. 🙂
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Thank you, you are a good reader. There’s a lot of star wishing in that town, but sadly, people with only stars for a roof at night too.
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Same here, sadly, due to the mild climate. It’s heartbreaking.
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I’m thinking that many people don’t know how to think outside the boxes we set up and call safe and supposed-to-be. Perhaps it’s a human survival mechanism. Artists are like the dangerous ones. It’s acceptible to like the art “they” tell us to like because it’s safe. But artists on the streets are not. Plus they remind the safe-minded folk of what happens when you think outside the box. You have a thought-provoking flash, D.
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Come on, now, Mills. It’s not that deep. Just a homeless wannabe in a honkytonk town full of wants-it-to- be’s the way it’s supposed to be..
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Are you trying to hide your shovel/pen? 😉
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I loved your writing. I could picture it all happening.
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Thanks! Thanks for coming by.
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The voice! This is all about how you got into this perfect voice! You make me hear it and feel it and smell it! Excellent. Zander
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Really? I didn’t think it was so… sensory; just incidental. But I will take the compliment. Thank you.
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