They said he meant nothing to her; she’d used him, then abandoned him.
He knew he’d won her heart with his blues last time she visited. How he wished she’d stayed. But now she was back, and he was ready. Hesitantly, she approached; the others’ showy, inept arrangements merely a momentary distraction.
They hadn’t a chance. He stepped forward – strutting, inviting, mesmerising.
One glance at his sapphire strewn floor, at the light dancing on cobalt baubles and indigo trinkets festooning every twig, the cornflower and cerulean strands draped from drooping branches within his bower, and she was his again.
Here’s a blues performance that will delight you.
And in case you don’t believe ‘blues’ can go with ‘spinet’, think again.
This is my offering for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting and managing this venue for a large and diverse group of writers each week. The challenge is to create a story of 100 words or less in response to a weekly photo prompt. Read the other stories here.
And if you’re still interested, here’s another video about the courtship antics of an amazing Australian creature.