Straight from my subconscious to you. This one is a scene almost verbatim from a very odd dream I had last night...
The music played, twin pipes lilting around and through each other. The wind blew dust past our feet.
“They say the song is cursed,” said the ancient man in the colorful wrap. “The only way to escape is to play it perfectly. This recording is of two musicians, twin brothers, who thought to finally conquer it. Listen, here. As they played the last note, one of them fell dead at his brother’s feet. He smiled in triumph as they neared the end.” The old man glanced up in the silence. “There are no smiles in the notation for the song.”
The Shoveller Of Widdecombe Ditch (Trad.)
11 hours ago