Apologies for posting this so late. I had a very busy weekend with personal commitments, so unfortunately my microfiction got sidelined. But to catch up, the first of today's two posts comes from Monaghan in Ireland, a town with a population of about 8,000 people, that unexpectedly hosts one of the country's best known blues festivals.
It was the first night of the Harvest Time Blues festival when a tall young man in black made his way to the stage in the Anchor Bar.
The singer turned, as though some primal signal had alerted him of danger.
"Tom. . ." he breathed. "What are you doing here?"
The man in black stared into the singer's eyes. "I want my guitar back."
"Well, you can't have it back!" The singer squared his shoulders. "I won it fair and square."
"And now I want to win it back," said the young man, and he drew a harmonica from his pocket as though it was a pistol. "I'll play you for it."
The audience hummed with anticipation. A glimmer of fear danced across the singer's face, but it was replaced almost as soon as it appeared. "You're on."
For the rest of my microfiction world tour, click on the tag below. Thanks for reading!