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| Goatswood |
She couldn't find her violin. She shuffled through the pile of bags waiting to be placed in the train. Where's the violin? Where is it? She ran around like a lunatic, grabbing people's arms and repeating the question over and over again. In the distance, a man walked away with a violin case. Why not? She had rejected him. She had mocked him, saying she had played him like a fiddle. Really? So, he was taking the fiddle. No more fiddling with people's feelings. She would have to face the music, and it wouldn't be the classical version of it.
100 Word Stories
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