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Last Note

Last Note

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My friend Alan...

“What is this place?” he thought to himself.

He carried only his beloved Gibson Les Paul guitar as he kept stumbling forward. His watch read 4:20 but he didn’t know if it was A.M. or P.M.

A booming voice echoed through the cavern.

“Step forward boy!”

A figure rose from the ground. He watched as the figure stood 10 feet tall. It was grotesque in appearance with horns of a ram and a long whip-like tail.

There was a swinging door to his left. Every now and then, someone would walk through the door and it would cascade back and forth. Open and closing on its spring hinges.

Each time it swung past the stop, he could see a neon sign beyond. Lit brightly but he was unable to make out what it said.

Even more startling, there was a penguin. It stood in front of the door letting some pass while others turned away.

“Boy!” it boomed. “In all of your life, you chose to bring a guitar to save you? How pathetic!” it said.

He looked down at his favored guitar. Slung low over his shoulder. There was a cable laying at his feet. He reached down and plugged it into his guitar.

“Play!” it said. “Play to save your soul!”

He quivered as he played his first note and watched in horror as the string broke. He looked up at the grotesque figure laughing.

“Play!” it demanded.

He strummed again and another string broke. Then another. Then another. Until he only had one string left. He raised his head slowly knowing he was meant to fail. The grotesque figure was laughing and relishing in his doom. He looked at the one remaining string. He knew one string could never be a concert.

His memories came flooding back. His family. His friends. The people he had helped all his life. We were all there as he plucked the last string on his guitar. He felt the string break between his fingers.

But not before it played one last note.

It echoed a beautiful melody. Resonating as if held in crystal. The devil slumped back on his throne. Beaten by one last note.

Alan took his no string guitar and stood before the penguin. He watched it waddle as it stepped aside. He pushed through the swinging door towards the neon sign. As he stood there looking at it he cried for all those he left behind. The sign only said one word.



This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2010-2040 LDJohnson (Dreamcatcher) - All rights reserved, including all copyrights and all other intellectual property rights in the contents hereof.

The contents and composition herein are not to be copied, reproduced, printed, published, posted, displayed, incorporated, stored in or scanned into a retrieval system or database, transmitted, broadcast, bartered or sold, in whole or in part without the prior express written permission of this author.

Unauthorized duplication is strictly prohibited and will be considered illegally plagiarized and subject to any or all damage claims, and is an infringement of National and International Copyright laws.

This composition may have been inspired by something seen or heard at a time or place heretofore forgotten. In all cases, credit has been attempted to be properly given and when so given, shown as a note or in footnotes. Failure to give proper credit is a mere oversight and/or unknown to this author and not an intentional act.

It is intended to reflect an original work of fiction or based upon personal experiences. Names, characters, places, and descriptions of incidents are products of this author's imagination, fictitiously expressed, personal experience expressed either in detail or loosely referenced, or merely the humble opinion of this author. Any similarities to actual persons or events are coincidental and subject to this author's determination.

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