Tones in the Key of Dramatic

 

The sky was tired. The clouds were heavy and about to burst out in tears.
Tan, tan, tan, taaaaaaaaaaan……
The thunder roared like Beethoven’s 9th Symphony and the violent violins followed as she watched the outside perched up on a window.
Tong…. The clock struck another hour providing a respite, an appropriate interlude. Patience, she thought, as she nervously fiddled her fingers around awaiting in a pit of agonizing longing.
A shadow crept out from behind the trees. The music escalated building climax and then climbed back down in tempo, it was just the wind blowing over a heavy branch.
The angry rain poured down, beating on the tin roof.
Tan, tan, tan, taaaaaaaaan…..

From a distance, a horse galloped rapidly building up to a second zenith. The rider took careful care to fasten a package to the horses saddle so that it wouldn’t get lost while they galloped. The horse continued the aggressive pursuit of his route. Thunder, lightning! The horse was blinded and kicked up on its two legs making his rider slide off his saddle. Violins continued to play in the background as the rider lamented his fate, face down on the mud while holding his hand out bleakly for help that would never come. The lone horse ran away like a cowardly thief in the night.
“Traitor!” The rider grunted.

Run, Run.
Run, Run.

Back at the house…

The kerosene lamps flickered their flames. The fire within them danced to the rhythm of the violas. The children crawled up from the dark corners of the house with their blankets to meet their mother by the window. They all looked at each other and then out the window expectant but none dared speak of their pains.
Pang, pang, pang, paaaaaaang! Their stomachs gurgled in a cacophony of sounds. Another shadow of doubt crept up leading all the family looky-looks into false hopes.
But wait… The mother held onto her children with unstoppable glee. It was the horse finding its way home. Was the package on the horse? They all thought.
“Where is daddy?” one little one said to his mother.
Tan, tan, tan, taaaaaaaan…. It was the thunder of suspense.
“Don’t worry my love. Daddy probably fell off the horse as usual. I am sure he will get back on it. He always does.”
Mom went out and secured the horse, and the package, and got back in to the house, where the children were preparing the table and the stove.

Hours later. The rider was wet and dirty. He walked towards the house tired, however seeing his home gave him a second gust of energy to keep moving forward. He could almost feel the comfort of home beckoning him. He was almost there. He closed his eyes and with a sudden jolt of energy he ran to the door. He opened the door and a gust of wind blew in behind him, the fire in the chimney roared and the flames from the kerosene lamps flickered again.
“Daddy, Daddy,” the children jumped up and ran to hug their wet daddy.
“Honey, is the bacon home?” said the rider to his wife exhausted but happy to see his family.
His wife smiled back at him as if she had an ace up her sleeve for dinner.
Tan, tan, taaan….

 

This writing exercise was about incorporating a song into a short story. 

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