On this blog, author Leanne (Willetts) Dyck reviews books, shares her short stories, offers online author readings, and comments on her author journey. Leanne writes for adults and children. Her long-term goal (five years) is to be published by a large, established publishing house. Her short goal (one year) is to earn one million page views for this blog. Please help nurture this blog by visiting and sharing.
The richest man in the entire world had two possessions he valued
among all others. A dome roofed gilded cage contained a gold harp. A woman with
a shapely figure, flowing hair and dress was carved on the front of the
harp. The harp produced such glorious music that grown men swept and the damned dreamed of heaven. She sat on the fireplace mantle and sang through an open
window. Her song was of longing for the world she was unable to explore. And gradually, day after day, the
want of sun-lite, green meadows turned her heart to stone.
Across from her on a dark brown mahogany
sideboard, angled into the room, stood a tin solider. He wore a uniform of war and in his hands he
held a gun. They said that if you gazed upon him with a week mind or heart, a
bullet would travel from his gun and pierce your skin. That single shot would
kill you instantly. From his vantage point the solider caught sight of the
harp and never let her go. Some believed his heart was made of tin. And such
may have been the case but never the less it did beat; he did feel--and though
the object of his desire was all he saw; he feared he would never possess her.
In fact, he feared she would never even acknowledge his existence. He judged
her by her song; by her appearance and believed she was beautiful. But it was
only an illusion. The beauty he saw was in his heart.