Fiddling The Strings Of Memory #1

(In progress)

A tired man lay on the couch, tired of waiting for happiness to come his way. He thought that he was on the highroad to happiness, and therefore he has persisted this far, but doubts have begun to take root, for all he feels is emptiness. The man puts his hand over his chest, clutching it in even pacing, recounting events, searching for where it all went wrong. When was it that he drove off the highway, and has he came so far off the road that he may never find his way back.

He climbs the ladder with newfound eagerness.

“Get a real job!” “Fiddling may be fun, but it will not fill the bellies of your future children”

A man who as a child and young teen enjoyed fiddling, and it was long a part of his life, but suddenly he fiddles less and less, found less time for it, it just somehow vanished, the carefree childlike sprit of chasing one’s dreams. He became an “adult”.

Write a story about someone returning to their craft after a long hiatus.

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