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Who is the piano playing dog?
Faith Mortimer: Assassin’s Village
Tucker is simply singing for his owner’s attention! His owner is an Indie writer and is completely immersed in her latest masterpiece. She’s overlooked Tucker’s food by an hour at least. He’s also been stuck indoors all afternoon and has had enough of sitting with all four legs crossed … “Come on, mum get off that pc!”
Jonathan Gould: Magnus Opum
The dog’s name is Bob, which is actually short for Bob the Dog. The piano was a birthday gift from his uncle (whose name, incidentally, is also Bob the Dog). Unfortunately, Bob didn’t want a piano for his birthday. He was really hoping for a violoncello. Nevertheless, as it was a gift, his mother makes him practice every day. Is Bob happy about that? Howl no!
Clive Johnson: Cold Angel Days
“Well, dammit,” Scottie growled, “but if he ain’t going to hear me scratching at his bedroom door, then I suppose I’m just goin’ to have to sing for my supper – and LOUD.”
Marsha Cornelius: The Ups and Downs of Being Dead
How could things have gone so horribly wrong, Fritz wondered as he climbed onto the piano bench. He’d been a loyal and dedicated protector since his early pup days, barking whenever anyone came to the door, sniffing every bush and post in the neighborhood for suspicious activity. Hadn’t they all agreed that chewing the high heel was just a misunderstanding? And Master himself admitted that leaving those steak bones in the garbage overnight was a big mistake. So why? Why would they bring this squalling creature into the home? And hover over it cooing and pinching its toes right there on the floor in from of him? Ooooo!
William Knight: Generation
From snarling wolf to Youtube howler in a hundred generations sounds a story of lost potential. The dog tinkles because it senses the ancient waft of inedible elephant bone in those ivory keys, and its full-moon wail reveals the impossibility of ever burying the instrument under the roses.
Terry Murphy: Weekend in Weighton
It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, and it took longer than he would have liked, but Beethoven always hoped he’d come back. When he filled in his reincarnation form he guessed which way the music world was going and ticked the ‘singer/songwriter’ box. On the animal section he put down ‘Octopus’, but you can’t have everything. Okay, so the piano playing is a bit rusty, but you try hitting chords with those paws. And clearly his singing voice was never all that good. But just look at that face! And the clincher? Yup, the period candle. Believe me? Good; now, roll over Beethoven.
Christina Mercer: Arrow of the Mist
Zed always assumed a pair of the Great Danes he lived with were his biological parents. He’d been waiting for years to grow as big and strong as they were. That is, until one of them sat him down and told him the truth. So, Zed showed off the one thing he had that was bigger than all the Danes: his musical talent.
Mary Maddox : Talion
Born to Howl.
It began when I was very young. The moon rose above the trees, big and round like a ball I could chase across the sky, and I felt an overwhelming need to howl. I stood in the backyard and howled away until Ryan or Jenny came out of the house and yelled, “No! Bad dog!” I whined a little and quieted down until I was once again alone with the moon. Then I went back to howling. I just couldn’t stop. They might as well have told me to stop sniffing crotches or peeing in the flowerbed. Finally Jenny or Ryan dragged me inside where I couldn’t see the moon. I was miserable – until one night Jenny played chopsticks on the piano. Something about those sounds, the way the vibrations tickled my ears, inspired me to howl. Ryan laughed, but then he said, “No! Bad dog!” I try to be a good dog, but I’m only canine. Sometimes, when they aren’t around, I jump on the piano bench and step on the keys and feel those vibrations rising from my paws through my body all the way to the tips of my ears. Then I stick my nose in the air and do what I was born to do. It’s not the moon, but I take what I can get.
Tahlia Newland: Lethal Inheritance
“Me name’s little Jonny Tucker. I gotta sing for me supper. Dat’s the way it is, dude.”
Georgiana Derwent: Oxford Blood
Thomas was a naturally great piano player. He started out by practising obsessively, until many people began to say that he was the best piano player the world had ever known. Soon after that, he began to realise that while they could tell the difference between a bad player and a good player, most people couldn’t tell the difference between the good and the great, and he grew complacent. He barely practised for his performances, relying on luck, his natural talent and his audiences’ lack of distinction. But then he was called upon to play at Baron Jackson’s birthday party. Thomas had heard strange stories about the Baron, but he dismissed them and concentrated on enjoying a decadent weekend at the Baron’s castle. His unpractised performance was good but not outstanding. The guests clapped but the Baron was furious and decided that Thomas needed to be reminded of the value of practise and effort. He cursed him to take on the form of a dog but retain his musical knowledge. He commanded Thomas to practise, promising that as soon as he could play his repertoire from the birthday party perfectly, he would be returned to his human body. Until then, he must live as a dog and ensure hours of frustrating attempts at practise each and every day.
Now vote for your favorite flash fiction and to be in the draw for the Kindle Paperwhite leave a comment saying why.
The poll has ended and the winner is Mary Maddox!
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