Our Tune

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PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

Alison slid the record from its sleeve and rubbed it carefully on her sleeve. Balancing it between thumb and middle finger, she delicately placed it on the turntable.
She moved the arm across; there was a crunch as the stylus hit the opening groove.
The room filled for several revolutions with regular clicks and crackles until the opening bars of Elgar’s cello concerto stole in.
Her hand shot out, wrenching the arm back. There was an excruciating screech as the stylus skidded across the vinyl.
Through her tears, she smiled apologetically at the photograph on the mantelshelf.
“Sorry. Maybe one day.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

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43 thoughts on “Our Tune

    • You’re dead right. That’s what comes with changing a phrase and neglecting to look at what effect it has on the surrounding sentences. Thanks for pointing it out, I’ll edit it properly now.

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  1. Loved all the details of playing the real vinyl albums, and the hint at the end about why this is all so significant for her. On a side note, I still have most of my old albums from the 1970s and 1980s and still play them sometimes. I have no idea why they’re making a comeback; it’s a clearly inferior way to store music. So many scratches and skips, it’s heartbreaking!

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  2. Unfortunately, I’ll have to go with the other comments about the record player. I have no memories of using a record player, aside from it having a diamond stylus and it was too precious for me to touch as a kid. My parents’ record player was sacred and up alongside the crystal glasses.
    xx Rowena

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  3. A very touching story. The details in setting the record and needle were exquisite. What will the younger people write about – hitting the play button – their loss.

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  4. You caught the placement of the needle on the record just right – the sounds, the way one has to hold the record so it won’t get scratched. Immediately I knew you still played records (or vinyls as they’re now called.) A great story that leads to another . . .

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  5. Thank you. Silly as it may seem when I was a child I couldn’t sing the hymn, “There is a green hill far away”, without crying because when we returned from church one day, having sung that, my budgie had died.

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  6. I think analog recording, like vinyl, is deeper, fuller, (not that I would hear the difference) where the digital signal is flattening the signal a bit. I’d take the digital anyway, it’s surprising how favourite songs from my old records really sound without the scratches, screeches and jumps, LOL. The emotion and description in this story is fabulous. Beautiful, sad nostalgia.

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  7. Sad, melancholic tale, Michael. Feels very real – that wnating to listen and being unable to. The only thing that pulled me up was the two ‘sleeves’ in the opening sentence. A great tale though

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