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Rainbow Strap Guitar

16 Aug

Charcoal Girl by Kyanna Kitt

Rainbow Strap Guitar: A Flash Fiction

Pebbles and rocks crunched beneath Kyra’s feet. She was walking a tiny path into the woods- Just enough so that she would meet her floating seat on the “Great Old Tree” she found when she was younger- Her companion on her back. As she sat she looked around the clubhouse that was the woods, listening to the birds chirp and squirrels playing and looking for acorns. This music roused her senses and motivated her to make her own. She slid her rainbow strap guitar around the curves of her own body and began to play.

Listening to the tight sound the strings made as she slid her fingers to make new chords- The scratching of her fingers to the strings as she made beautiful arpeggios of them. She sat slowly swinging, slightly reclining only bringing her feet up barely enough so she could see them past her lilac ruffled skirt. She began humming as she went back and forth between Am7[5X555X] and D9 [X5455X] them Bm7[7X777X] and E9[X7677X] respectively Bossa Nova style. She felt the warmth of the sun dancing on her brown skin thinking that maybe it was for the music that it did. She giggled at the thought. This instrument had changed her in more ways than she knew. Her depression, her inability to verbalize how she felt, the struggle, the hurt all melted the day they had met. She could easily say it was the happiest day of her life-

As the swing stopped she sighed noticing her friends had all gone for the night and she hurried back on the path on which she had came.

It’s amazing how beautiful the most simple of things are,” she said making her way through the woods.

Until next time,” she whispered as she looked out from the place she resided.

©copyright Kyanna Kitt

House Of Whimsy

16 Aug

A kiss for luck.

A frog for power.

A field full of snow.

A witching hour.

A cloud of mystery.

A fountain of youth.

A certain shade of forestry.

A speaker of truth.

A fateful night.

A home in a dark well.

A song of spirit.

A dozen or more shells stashed in a yellow pale.

A dreamer.

A speaker.

A mountain.

A seeker.

A home of whimsy.

A token of peace.

A sweet scented air.

A warm black fleece.


©copyright Kyanna Kitt

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