Short story: Oboe solo for two players


The sound of the oboe carries through the evening, a melancholic invitation to come now. He has told his mother that he must be in the bandstand; something about fresh air and breathing technique. His mother likes that he is practicing.

At the first note, gliding in through her open window, she stirs and tells her mother she’s going to the meadow with the old portable gramophone, to dance. Her mother likes that her daughter is imaginative.

At the bandstand, in the dusk, she winds up the gramophone. And while Bach’s Partita for solo oboe plays out into the night, they practice, together.


This is a 100-word(ish) story for Friday Fictioneers brought to us by the wonderful writer Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, and the picture this week is supplied by the fantastic writer, David Stewart. Click here to join in with Friday Fictioneers, or here to read other people’s.


Until Sunday readers in the US can win a signed copy of the UK version (left) of my novel, Our Endless Numbered Days; and readers in the UK can win a signed copy of the US version (right). The competition is running on Twitter and Facebook. Click the links and follow the instructions to enter. Good luck!

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