This is in response to Rochelle’s Weekly Photo Prompt for Friday Fictioneers.
Word Count : 100
The Guitar
I was turned into stone by the curse of Satan and stood rooted at a spot. Gradually a shop of glittery stuff got built around me. I was hung on a hook. Years passed. Those who visited the shop not even glanced at me once.
Then one fine day a young boy came to the shop. He looked around. Then his eyes settled on me. He touched me with his soft nimble fingers. And lo! My strings pulsated and music erupted from my core.
Now I sing to my heart’s content in the arms of my beloved prince.
99 Words
You can read the other stories here.










Nicely done
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Thank you Derrrick
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Everybody needs a prince
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Yes, true
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Lovely story
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Thank you
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You’re welcome ☺️
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I like that different take on sleeping beauty🙌
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There are many tales of similar nature
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I hope he played “One day, my Prince will come”! A new take on a well-worn fairytale.
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Thank you very much
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Excellent! A world without music is unthinkable.
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Yes, you are absolutely correct 💯
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Geeta, a beautiful universal metaphor.
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Thank you Lisa
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You are welcome.
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Lovely story!
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Very cleverly told tale.
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Thank you very much 🙏
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