MUSIC PROMPT #3: PREVIEW

This is the song that will be used for my next music prompted fiction. Look forward to it.

- B

MUSIC PROMPT FICTION #2: Frédéric Chopin

MUSIC INSPIRED BY:

Frédéric Chopin - Prelude in E-Minor (op.28 no. 4)

"CHECKMATE"

It had only taken me but a moment to realize the state of affairs. The years of affection, the toil, pain and sacrifice-- all a miserable joke. My charade, the secret life of sin and assorted debauchery I'd hid for so long... nothing but a cough at a concert. She heard them all along. The moans... The rustling of sheets... All trifles to her. My perceived cunning had been nothing more than an illusion  brought on by her feigned ignorance. Yes, it was she... not I who truly was the deceiver. My queen. Oh, my precious queen... Oh how I pampered thee. If only as a bribe... but still. How could you do this to me? How could you do this to your country? Though I suppose I must come to terms now with the fact that it was never your country at all. The land you loved through your teeth-- the land you sold into slavery. Our land... our daughter's land... my land.

Lesser men than I oft divorce or dispose of their wives when the marriage ship starts to hit the rocks. Alas, I'd have been better off a lesser man, cursed by my own desire for integrity. How I envy the rabble! What ease, to live as  a rapscallion, undaunted by public scorn-- with a pride so besmirched a stain blends rather than stands out. I wish it was in my character to bail out and seek safe harbor like cowardly deserting pirates with not an ounce of loyalty. After all, I'd always believed that a captain ought go down with his ship and commanded such behavior from the admirals of my Navy. 

Was I a bad king or a bad husband? I ask myself such futile questions as these as I toss and turn in my cell. Trivial. Trivial in the fact that their answers matter not as my wife's powers of deception were so masterful that even the world's greatest tactician could not have seen through her plan. I'd selected my mate for her beauty with her high learning as an afterthought. Who would have thought that her thoughts were after my crown. My late father had advised me against allowing a woman a choice and the danger of providing them with books and education. At the time I found his warning to be senility induced ramblings, the nonsense spouted at the deathbed by a dying sovereign in a last ditch effort to preserve the ways of his era. I see now that they were sage. Lethally true. 

She never loved me. 

NEVER.

Me. A king. A man with limitless power and prestige. 

Such an unforgivable betrayal! Sure, it is true I never felt a thing for her, but that is not to be expected of me. Her grace is my embrace. The only sight upon which she sets her horizon is my glorious hand. The hand bearing the ring she shares. The ring she kissed loyally in front of my entire court. Or as loyal as she allowed it to seem... as it is now known that she had been a spy from the kingdom of Gamalur-- a land decimated and destroyed by my father. What loyalty is that, anyway?  With her entire country dead, why would she still operate for its favor. Those fake tears... I am the one who deserves to cry. My bloodline now ends with me. The storied history of my family's monarchy, a brilliant book hundreds of years in the making., sees it's final chapter. Yes, my people called my grandfather a tyrant unfit to inherit his father's crown. True, my father and I continued down his path of firm rule with an emphasis on building our wealth. But they did not see the end goal! Their rebellion snuffed my candle before I could reach the top of the tower where they could finally see the great heights all the harsh steps we were taking lead. They dared criticized a plan before its results were in!? TRULY. She betrayed the entire country, no the ultimate fate of the world, by betraying me.

That is what you did not see. No one saw it. That was my plan. I had to bleed the people dry to amass funds in my war chest. Our military was on its way to becoming an unstoppable army. In a mere decade or two, we would have had the power to obliterate and enslave all the other kingdoms. If my people trusted in my power rather than her so-called 'wit'  they would have lived to see the day when we made foreigners slaves instead of them. They would have been able to live the life of ease and luxury they so foolishly chastised my family for living. Oh, such is my curse... to be born with great misfortune. My ill luck fated me to be in charge of such an ignorant and selfish lot. They never deserved my family. We should have completely stripped away all their freedom years ago. But no, my kindness got the best of me again. I foolishly allowed them to work for me and die for me in the way they saw fit... in their own homes with their own families.  They will see that life won't be so simple with me gone.

I do not care that I am to be beheaded tomorrow, as I would have committed suicide out of spite anyway. I've done the Lord's work, I shall be seeing him shortly. They call me an arrogant narcissist... but they can have their dumb opinions-- I never cared for them. I do not fear death. I look forward to seeing God. It will be nice to speak with an equal for once.

MUSIC PROMPT FICTION #1

MUSIC PROMPT?

This is the first entry in my new flash fiction series called MUSIC PROMPT FICTION.

Most prompted fiction begins with a picture or a small scene, but my mind finds creative inspiration through music. I take a song and craft a scene out of it, capturing the mood and building upon its vibes. I suppose this is strange, but it's an excellent exercise nonetheless-- an enhancement to my writing. When I compose fiction I am constantly listening to music. I will shift songs or genres depending on the mood, backdrop or intensity I require for the piece. It must work because I never stumble into writer's block, and the effect is noticeable on the feel I get from read-backs.    

I've decided to harness this ability--or strange habit-- into material for my blog for your enjoyment. For each entry of Music Prompt Fiction I will loop a random song from my library--or one new to me entirely-- then write for an hour or so and post the results. Sounds fun, right? Here is the first result:

"PASSED IN THE FUTURE"

Röyksopp - Poor Leno

Keith Eldrick is to be the first time traveler. A man with no face. No being. No persona. This is to be his destiny. His mark. To venture into obsolete nothingness. To not return. Time is a one way trip, regardless of the direction you go in. That's why Keith was chosen. Unremarkable. Undesirable. Mute. Sullen. Uninspired. Human society is a cultured existence of absolute evolution. The the self-made modifications to mankind have bred out blandness. Keith was an anomaly. A man miraculously born by accident. An unexpected relic of a more 'human' humanity. The traveler felt it only proper to leave his time for another, for he'd never truly believed it to be his own time at all.

"Keith, you are aware of your only mission, correct?" a cold, robotic voice asked within his mind.

With a loud churn, the white pill-shaped capsule in the center of the vacant room momentarily expelled steam. The invisible nano-machines in the air immediately removed the vapor from sight. They emitted silencer waves to cancel out the time machine's unpleasant sounds.

Keith made no reply. He stood still and silent, just as he had done his entire life. Nano-machinery, sentient robotics and micro-computers performed all the menial tasks and physical labor in society. Mankind existed only to entertain itself and increase its understanding. Genius and excellence in ability were all but assured-- the norm. Unlike most children, Keith had be born without the aid of optimized genetics. Rather than a growth pod, his embryo developed in a human uterus. Being born regular made Keith useless. Impractical. A stranger in society.    

Part of humanity's prenatal genetic coding included sterilization, ensuring sexual intercourse remained for pleasure purposes only. Only the poorest and most reviled sects of the species still gave birth in such a barbaric way. In fact, his trip down to Earth to make the jump into the past marked the first occasion in which Keith had ever seen someone else with imperfections. While the bulk of humanity resided in the massive habitation districts orbiting Earth and Mars, the genetically normal, irregular and retarded were exiled to the desolate wastelands of the Martian and Earthen surfaces. The only reason Keith hadn't been sent below was because his birth coincided with the Quantum Continuum Manipulation Project or QCMP on District 87-B-K-9775, "HAWKE." 

QCMP's were commonplace.While various other districts were experimenting with altering local time fields to pause and speed productivity, the HAWKE team's time manipulation research served solely as a novelty. HAWKE-QCMP's own creator fully acknowledged that reversed human time travel was a pointless endeavor that did nothing to further society. The individual undergoing reverse time travel would have no means of return-- essentially committing suicide. Worse yet, there would be no way to live, being restrained to the archaic technology of the past-- nor communicate. 

The primitive ancestors did not have access to the telepathic thought transmitter chip technology. Historical data indicated that touch and voice input had been the primary means of operating the old technology. Worse yet, the technology had no self-awareness and required constant human control to operate. To the majority of humanity, the past truly was an unpleasant place-- filled with discomfort, physical work, immorality and mortality. Even the ape-like surface dwellers lived better lives than those of the past.  

"We will now begin the cleanse. To avoid paradoxes, your organic material will be the only part of you making this journey."

The nanomachines erased Keith's clothing and removed all the technology integrated in his brain and body. Keith feel to his knees and gasped. He felt pain, and he felt vulnerable. He'd already received lifelong training to move and speak without the aid of machinery, but actually being forced to do so was another thing entirely. With his anxiety inhibitor removed, Keith began to feel apprehensive.

"SINCE... WE CAN... NO LONGER... USE... TELEPATHIC TRANSMISSION... WE WILL HAVE TO USE THIS... ROBOTIC SPEECH OUTPUT."

 "Ahh, ehh? Oooo?"

Keith played around with sounds, trying to form words.

"Afff... Affirmative."

"STEP... INTO THE CAPSULE... MANUALLY."

The young man staggered awkwardly. Without their enhancements, his muscled ached-- straining to support movement. The white capsule enclosed around Keith, submerging him in absolute darkness.

"TIME DESTINATION: 2247 AD... EXACTLY ONE THOUSAND YEARS IN THE PAST."

...