Flash Fiction

The Canary’s Lullaby.

For two years, thereabouts, she fronted the Christian rock band, “Holy Hocus Pocus.” Then, she simply disappeared. After a sabbatical in Seattle, she claimed, she sang for her supper in the upper midwest. She did covers in coffee houses that thaw and caffeinated campuses of high education and low, sub zero, wind-chill.

Making like a snow bird, she materialized in Miami to DJ a disco in nouveau South Beach. She spun that to ship sing oldies to oldsters … Diana Shore, Lesley Gore, and sharing Cher…three shows a night.

One day in the Bahamas, she bumped into boyish Bob, bashful Bob, bit and byte billionaire Bob. Caribbean court and sparkin’ ensued. He asked. And she answered.

And one year, one month, one week, and one day later, she sings a lullaby to an audience of one.

Published by r.Douglas

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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