This is my second part to
CreativityTakesCourage
's trigoly, A Story Told in a Song. One famous writer on this site ( I can't mention his name because I didn't get permission) when I started reading from this site, used song titles in his stories, which was my inspiration to try writing to begin with. To CTC, you write like a French Pastry, while I write like lumpy oatmeal, but still I try.
Consider this my challenge to all you experienced and wanna be writer, pick a song and write a 750 word story with it, it is quite fun. Now, on with the show.
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It had been a month since Phillip sang his set of songs, in essence ending his marriage to Annabelle. He'd moved on and was now living in a small flat, closer to his work. He hadn't seen or spoken to her since, but he had been seeing Melissa. She'd been sharing his bed every night after he'd moved in.
She was good in bed, but not what he'd been used to. How do you go from a Lamborghini to a Pontiac Fiero in less than a week?
Melissa conned him into coming back to karaoke night, with the promise that he didn't have to perform if he didn't want to. Their table was just inches from the stage, so one could say they had front row seats. At eight, Freddy the owner, who always started open mic with a few jokes, took the stage.
"I'm doing something a little different tonight; I'm not going to tell any jokes."
The crowd heckled him for a moment.
"Tonight, I'm starting off with a newcomer to the stage; let's give it up for ANNABELLE."
When she walked out on the stage, she looked different than she had a month ago. Gone was the puffy hairstyle, low-cut-at-the-top-short-at-the-bottom dress. Her normal four inch heels that made her calves and ass look like something out of a wet dream, replaced by flats. She wore a loose-fitting pant suit, her hair was down, and her contacts were replaced with the horned rim glasses she only wore at home to read.
She took the mic and began to speak. It was clear she was nervous. "Earlier this year, I made a bad decision, tonight I hope to try and rectify it."
Phillip started to get up, intending to leave but Melissa held his hand, keeping him in place.
"Phil, I've been having coffee with Annabelle for the last week. She knows we've been sleeping together, but she still loves you and wants to tell you, give her this one chance."
He eased back down into his seat as Annabelle began to sing.
There's got to be a morning after
If we can hold on through the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
Let's keep on looking for the light
He knew the song; it was from that old disaster movie.
Oh, can't you see the morning after?
It's waiting right outside the storm
Why don't we cross the bridge together
And find a place that's safe and warm?
Phillip always knew Annabelle could sing, when ever they'd gone on rides they'd drop a CD in the player and sing together, she just couldn't perform in front of others.
It's not too late, we should be giving
Only with love can we climb
It's not too late, not while we're living
Let's put our hands out in time
Could he find forgiveness? After all, he had probably fucked Melissa more times than Rick had Annabelle.
There's got to be a morning after
We're moving closer to the shore
I know we'll be there by tomorrow
And we'll escape the darkness
We won't be searching anymore
