A couple of throws of the dice today.
Two stories for Friday Fictioneers with a prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Please vote for your favourite.
I got dressed for my game of psychedelic golf and climbed into the piano.
I fell for a thousand years and landed on a marshmallow the size of a flatbed truck.
I was helped down by wood nymphs, land-maids (like mermaids but fish on top, woman on bottom) and goat men.
They pointed me in the direction of the spiral tree forest and gave me a map printed on the back of a 10 Euro note.
I got lost and asked some evil hypnotists for help.
They entranced me and took my nine iron.
When I awoke they were gone.
In order to play Rachmaninoff’s Sonata No. 2 a pianist must have 14 fingers.
To play Mozart’s unpublished Mega Requiem the player must first forsake his earthly belongings and besmirch his wife in public.
J.S. Bach, for fun, often composed pieces that only suited for players who played with their feet submerged in a mixture of ground up corn cobs, milk and suet.
Prokiev’s Vanya and the Duck must be performed while being stalked by wolves in tuxedos.
Beethoven wrote a piece in his later years that can only be played correctly from inside the piano, while wearing checked trousers.