Wayne Helge
Wayne Helge was in the Coast Guard for a dozen years before wading ashore, and now writes and works in Virginia. His fiction has appeared on homemade novelty toilet paper, and numerous post-its. He tweets the occasional stock tip at @waynsdeepkimchi, and still prefers neck chords over barre chords.
Dinner Music from Song Stories Volume I
Les fell in love with the song the first time he heard it, so he invited it to dinner.
It was almost a year since Andrea had moved out, and nearly as long since he had spoken to the kids. Les was alone in the mall. Or maybe the gym. An odd song to play in the gym. "That Moon Song." It played over a speaker with poor sound quality, scratching out a muddled mash of the lows and highs.
It was a simple song, with a standard chord progression like anything else on the radio. Les imagined he could learn to play it, even with his stunted high-school guitarist skills, in less than ten minutes. He heard an F chord to C and back again, with an occasional A minor slipped in, to give the foreboding sound of a lost love or a dead friendship. But then the C came back, full of hope. It was that renewed C chord that he longed for, as he heard it over the buzzing speakers, through banal chatter.
Read the whole story...
It was almost a year since Andrea had moved out, and nearly as long since he had spoken to the kids. Les was alone in the mall. Or maybe the gym. An odd song to play in the gym. "That Moon Song." It played over a speaker with poor sound quality, scratching out a muddled mash of the lows and highs.
It was a simple song, with a standard chord progression like anything else on the radio. Les imagined he could learn to play it, even with his stunted high-school guitarist skills, in less than ten minutes. He heard an F chord to C and back again, with an occasional A minor slipped in, to give the foreboding sound of a lost love or a dead friendship. But then the C came back, full of hope. It was that renewed C chord that he longed for, as he heard it over the buzzing speakers, through banal chatter.
Read the whole story...