APRIL FICTION

Play Mustily for Me

by

Roberta Xylophone

The Jockey’s booth reverberated with discs round and tall, stacked to the hilt hit after miss. It was another day in the ship she called space. K Adam could only look on as J sang her own name inwardly to soothe.

How many listeners to today’s shock rocking bleats could muster a call from those above?

It had been too long since she’d heard from the other or for that matter, any other. Her work there or here was never done. A service provided once cold and called; forgotten warmly by most it had seemed.

She always wanted to live in music, ever since her parent proudly carved a name with whistling Mardi Gras bells that sang to every beat her heart allowed since. This was her chip on the old spinning block.

However, times of late had been hard what with her duty to educate others through the instrument’s voice with its song to soothe and feel. But she had become disheartened feeling no one understood. What ever she introduced fell from the air and dissolved to a pattern lost on most. The greats in her mind were all and there for a reason; to be.

Far too long without a crackling call, barking to her as it did. She knew her role and was hers alone and the only way of communicating that she knew.

J’s own jingle jangled with a shriek as another closed to a thud shuddering, soon segueing to the latest explosion deaf to those camped with closed ears, minds and eyes.

Without order she continued content to play on, through her digitised mono voice box announcing the next and last so others may find and discover the music and her. Music played her every movement and she was determined to give this back to her listening world. She would go on, contact from her boss or not. This was hers.

Below, the streets swept silently, blowing. Bodies lay burnt and lost, decomposing; the only movement in life was the wind. That world had ended but floating above, the music played on.