Writing Prompt: Music drifted down from the open window.

Good morning. There were no dreams last night. That always feels strange to me. Usually my dreams are vivid and strange and I’ll admit I spend way too much time the following day thinking about them. But on the few nights where I don’t dream, I feel like I’ve missed something. It always leaves me a little unbalanced the following morning. Maybe the prompt will help, everyone ready? Fabulous! Let’s go.

It took me a while to get into this one. I think I sort of circled an idea or two but didn’t really pin anything down. Today just felt more like spinning my gears with no traction. But my brain is a little clearer and I am ready to write in general, so that’s something.

Thursday, February 3rd: Music drifted down from the open window.

Music drifted down from the open window.  It was a song she knew.  She heard it before, but couldn’t place it.  Dana stopped under the open window and frowned, listening to the notes spilling out into the night air.  It was so familiar, yet like nothing she would ever listen to.  She shook the thought away and continued on her way home.

The small apartment was big enough for one and suited her needs.  As long as she didn’t invite anyone over, she could forget its size.  For now, it was useful.  It may have been small but it was quiet and tucked out of sight.  She liked to tell herself that she wasn’t hiding, that she was just giving herself room to think, but in her mind she knew it wasn’t true. 

She was in a city where no one would think to look for her, working at a job no one would connect with her and using an assumed name.  The false identity was first rate and untraceable.  She felt as safe as she ever had in her life.  The job did not pay much and there was less glamour but there was a stability that was missing before.  A certainty that brought her a measure of peace. 

Life was what it was, she always thought. She never realized that it could be different.  The chaos, the upheavals she felt were just a part of daily living.  Then the upheavals became more random and untenable.  She hadn’t meant to slip away.  That had not been her intention. 

But that last night, she came home.  The lights were flashing, the music was loud and she saw the man in the suit walking up the front steps of the building.  She knew what that meant.  They would be moved soon.  Somewhere else, where things would remain more or less the same, just in a different place with different people.  She was never sure why.  No one ever saw fit to tell her.  She decided this time she wasn’t going to go.  There was little thought other than to just walk away and stay gone until they were moved on to the next location.  The others could go on without her. 

Once she started moving, she kept moving. Without her identification, she was forced to find a replacement.  Luckily she had enough currency on her to do so. New identity in hand, she found herself moving again.  She didn’t realize she was putting distance between her old life and her new until she stopped.  She found herself in a different place.  She found a job and the small apartment and found quiet.  For the first time it was quiet.  She knew without a doubt that she could enter her apartment and things would be exactly where she left them and in the condition she left them in. 

The music was odd and stayed with her as she continued to her home.  She entered her apartment and found it, as always exactly as she left it.  The music stayed in her head as she pulled off her coat and moved to the kitchen to make her dinner.


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