Swan Song

Ruth and Inga stood side by side at the edge of the pool. Late in the year, the pond had shrunk as far as it might. That was the best time to fetch the piano.

“I still say it’s a crying shame.” Inga shook her head. “A waste of a perfectly good piano.”

“The shame is that not a single one of those would-be musicians passed my little test. Most of them didn’t even set foot in the water, let alone get through the Minute Waltz,.”

The tow truck strained and whined as the line of the piano tightened.

The Challenge: Write a story in 100 words or less
The Challenger (Hub): Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
The Photo Credit: Anshu Bhojnagarwala

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