It was a pure voice, sweet and musical. I heard the choirboy in it, the sound a flock of birds shimmering along the length of his throat. He was always singing about love. Would he have done that if he’d known how soon it fades, or how quietly it dies?
Cheryl Snell writes stories with at least a grain of truth in them.
Yup, it can go quietly or with a magnificent, Cock a doodle do!
Yes, it runs the whole gamut! Thanks for commenting.
Interesting look at love
It’s nice when there’s a happy conclusion, though.
Lovely and evocative. Resonates with me as I have a vinyl my dad made for my 1st birthday, singing happy birthday. Your story really hits, especially the speculation on what your brother’s opinion would have been.
Thanks so much for telling me that. It’s wonderful to have these pieces of the past, isn’t it. Melancholy but meaningful.
Your description of a chorister’s voice captures it so beautifully. I will always think of it that way now. Thank you.
Thank you so much! That’s what every writer wants to hear.
Lovely images! My sister has lost her voice recently, so it was poignant to read this! Blessings!
I’m sorry about your sister and so grateful that you gifted me with your gracious comment. Thank you!