He forgets the world when he strokes the first string of his guitar. He won’t even notice you even if you stop by and listen to him playing, producing the sweetest melodies you’ve ever heard. You would want to stay there for long but you know you don’t have time to enjoy your life like that.
But he enjoys every bit of it. Next time you see him, he will be playing some other instrument at some other place. In front of the station, near the tourist attraction, sometimes on your way back, you will see him in some narrow alley, playing and humming to himself.
You go home and look for your guitar, which you played years ago. You tell yourself, he does not earn much. Few coins a day are not sufficient to live.
Still, it feels like he is living. He is doing what he likes to do. Are you?
Looking at the guitar, you ask this question to yourself.
Then you put it back thinking its too late.
This is an entry for the challenge Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, hosted by Priceless Joy. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in 100-150 words, +-25 words, (this one is a little too long, nearly 170 words), based on the weekly photo prompt.
Do check out other stories on the same prompt as well. Visit HERE.