A very short piece today but with good future story prospects I think. Please let me know if you agree. A writing prompt as long as this piece follows. Let me know if you find the prompts helpful or if you post something that comes from them.
The music catchers silence singers, human and avian alike, when songs are out of tune. The notes, the very sounds themselves, remain locked in the tree leaves until the arborist of airs collects them in his music bag. He takes them to the studio for processing. Running them through filters, melody modulators and various digital devices he transforms them into magnificent compositions if he can. Those without merit he mercifully discards. It’s a magical forest he tends, one that Euterpe could be proud of.
When I woke up my bag was full and life, it seemed, was coursing through me. The tree had worked its magic. What I didn’t know was that the tree was actually inside me and saving my life. It turns out that Taxol, one of my chemo chemicals, is found in the bark of the ancient yew tree. Even better, the Taxol is made from the needles of the tree, so the tree does not have to be destroyed. Eve Ensler