Section Eleven – Mike Kueider
When I let go, I’ll have to stand up. I’ll have to carry her into the house. The night will have completed itself and I’ll take the first step toward meeting myself where I am, a thin thread of emptiness always present, an ache. I’ll already be moving away from her and some barbed acceptance will have to begin. When I let go of her hand I’ll have to deal with the vast space boiling up between us.
When I let go, she will fall away from me, all at once, the assurance of her presence becoming vague and insubstantial. When I let go, there’ll be only me.
I clutch her hand so tightly my fingers ache, the tension knotting my arm into my shoulder. I notice the pain for a long time, an angry red throb pulsing into the base of my neck. I try to relax my fingers but find it difficult to distinguish them in the gnarl of flesh curled on the arm of the chair between us. I don’t look down at my hand; I keep my vision on the darkened lawns. I will my hand to take its own shape; I will the fingers to loosen and, as they do, Sophie’s hand uncurls within my own, her fingers resting, abandoned in my palm.
Cry in the Moonlight by Mike Kueider
Written and performed by Mike Kueider
Recorded on iPhone 6-s
Mike is a songwriter and software engineer born in Memphis. Raised in Mississippi and North Carolina, traveled all over. Worked on the chain gang and the blockchain. Never met a guitar he didn’t like. Currently resides in Mebane, NC.
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The Cloud Diary Music Project
We sent musicians a synopsis of Cloud Diary and a randomly chosen scene from among 12 scattered throughout the novel and asked them to respond to the scene, musically or aurally. The piece could be of any genre and any duration. It could be music already recorded, adapted, or written specifically for the scene. Find more information here.
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