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A Doctor and his Music.

Photo copyright: Mike Vore.   I hope that the story below is not to grim, it is a very watered down version of the original version that came to mind when I first saw the photo. Hence the time taken to post this story.


Doctor Benjamin was proud of his ability to analysis his customers. He would also only treat those who asked few questions. He had adapted and taped his favourite piece of Schubert, Der Doppelgänger. Very few who visited his consulting rooms picked up on the origins of his music or realised the magnitude of what lay behind his adaptations.

If they had seen the piano at which he played, it is still doubtfull that anyone would have realised to magnitude of his depravity. That is unless they had thought about the former use of the room in which he stored and played his musical instrument. He loved his piano more than the tools of his trade. A cosmetic surgeon he was regularly asked to trim away surplus skin, few gave any thought as to what happened to their skin once it had been removed.

Had they examine closely the cover that protected his piano, they might have spotted to amazing patchwork of tiny fragments that had been so carefully stitched together. Death walked with his music.

This Post Has 16 Comments
      1. keen eye Michael that never misses detail no matter how startling in discovery, teaches me not to rush headlong with my feelings to write but stop and look at the details

          1. Really? Sounds more like me Michael! I am so eager to start writing I forget to take a second look, but I suppose that’s the way it works for me and I am not unhappy with the end product, though I will try to be more mindful in the future, never know what the second look or reflection may say to me. But you do have a different take on most of the prompts which is very refreshing to me.

          2. There is often nothing wrong with first impressions; I have found over time that some stories return for altering, or should I say restitching . It was rather nice to read your last sentence, thank you.

  1. Oh, I wouldn’t like to play this piano. Not with its covering. You gave this story a delightfully macabre touch, and I honestly hope that it was as he said, surplus skin…

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