Short Story

The Harmonica

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are
encouraged to be creative in 250 words or less
using the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.

He was neither old nor young and if he had memories … good, bad, happy or sad … they were long forgotten, washed away like tears in rain.

His hand reached for his breast pocket, fingers touching the familiar object resting inside. A harmonica. He had no idea where it came from nor did he know why it was in his pocket yet somehow with an intrinsic knowledge he knew it was his.

Removing the instrument from his pocket, he stared at it as he reverently caressed the wood, reading the faded inscription. Raising it to his mouth, he began to play an old tune he forgot he even knew.

People passing by dropped coins into the white cloth shopping bag at his feet. He might not remember much but he’d never forget the delicious aroma of the crusty baguette in his bag.

A little boy of perhaps eight years of age shyly approached, dropped a coin in the man’s bag and ran back to his father waiting nearby. There was something about the older man that made the boy’s father pause for just a moment.

This ritual continued for several days and the two men pensively acknowledged each other with a nod.

One day before the boy ran back to his father, the man slipped the harmonica into his hand. When the boy’s father read the inscription, he knew. He looked up but the older man was gone.

He closed his eyes as a teardrop landed on the harmonica.

NAR©250
250 Words

The Unicorn Challenge-19/07/24

This is “Georgia On My Mind” by Charlie McCoy

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

32 thoughts on “The Harmonica”

  1. Beautiful story, with a gentle wistfulness throughout, despite the sadness of the old man’s declining memory and the rift that’s apparently occurred between the generations. I couldn’t help feeling there might be another thing going on, though, as the harmonica is passed to the boy. Like the passing on of a baton of sorts. My mind went to the Dalai Lama and how, I’ve read, a child is chosen to be the replacement after the current one passes. Your story’s tone seems, to me, to allow for a few different interpretations.

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    1. A fantastic and spot on comment, Margaret. I’m so glad you couldn’t help feeling … another thing going on; you deciphered the hidden meaning of passing the harmonica on to the little boy who is now forgotten by the older man … his grandfather.

      I believe another explanation could be that the older man left his family when his son was still young, taking with him the harmonica his son gave him as a gift. As the years went by and the boy grew, memories of his father were lost just as his father’s memories of him were lost. He didn’t remember his son and had no idea he now had a grandson. Stopping by every day to hear the older man play the harmonica sparked a small memory for both, and they acknowledged each other with a slight nod.

      Beautifully written comments, Margaret. Thanks so much!

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  12. Poignant tale, Nancy, and all the more so for the mystery it leaves – what was the connection between the two men?
    It leaves me thinking…
    (I hope you enjoyed your holiday!)

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