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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Laura on September 29, 2009

The Music

Their collective melodies stay with us,
now generations removed, into
this age of excess, robotic sound blips
and airbrushed album covers.
I wasn't there, so I only see
the vintage icons, the crinkled posters,
faded and grainy like old TV footage.
But I can hear the music as it was, only
digitally transcribed to be enjoyed
by all of us, forever; outside of its own
context like a waterfall in the desert.
I wasn't there before vintage was vintage,
when one song first exploded
out of crackly old radios
and touched something inside you
for the very first time. What was it like
to see him, her, them, on stage
right in front of you, to hear those
evocative riffs and strains dancing
in your soul as they were first etched
out of strings and drums and voices?
HD is not as clear as we think it is.
Clarity was there before the image
became clear enough to fool us into
thinking we finally had it.

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