I found the instrument in a forgotten corner of my grandparents’ attic. It had to be an antique, with delicate silk hoses and brass buttons set in dark oak. It looked like a cross between an accordion and an octopus.
Once I figured out which end was the mouthpiece, I tried a few notes. The instrument’s tone was otherworldly. It was spooky but a little sweet. I lost track of time playing it.
I looked up to see my grandfather standing at the attic stairs, an unreadable expression on his face.
That was odd because he’d died five years ago.

Today’s prompt was taken from October #CreativeFest, a month-long challenge. Please share, comment, and try it out yourself!

Advertisement