#a simple gift

[thedaveandkimmershow]

After a drive with Linzy yesterday, we pull up to the house where she's to purchase a monitor from someone who offered theirs online. They're actually kind and thorough enough to power it up right there in front, hook their laptop to it, demonstrating that it works.

Which it does.

During that process, right from the start, in fact, Linzy asks for a Venmo handle so she can make good on paying. At the time, I don't think anything of it more than politeness, but the answer always comes back as she'll have it soon... but also this.

I have something to say to you.

Which I think we both take to mean words of advice because we also both have the impression we're talking to a musician.

By 'n by, the monitor proves good to go as the soon-to-be former owner tells us about attending a music school back in the day and understanding what it's like to be in Linzy's shoes at this point in her life.

The soon-to-be former owner then slips on a pair of sneakers, offering to carry the monitor out to the car while I open it up and, once the monitor's safely settled in, here's the something to say to you Linzy was promised.

"Congratulations, you have a monitor!"

Well yeah. Linzy's buying it.

But that wasn't the meaning.

Because here's what's happening:

LInzy is getting it for free.

For free.

The explanation's that once upon a time in music school, the school and, therefore, the students, received donations. Music gear. Some tasty, donated music gear, in fact. And the experience of being on the receiving end of that giving remains indelible to this day.

The seller looked Linzy up online, you see. Saw what she was up to. Listened to her music. And decided to do for her what strangers had done for the students at a long-ago music school.

Wow.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

I'll tell you straight up in that moment... Linzy wasn't understanding this was happening for real.

Not right then she wasn't.

But it was. It was. It was completely for real.

And this.

What we just heard wasn't the something to say that was promised. It was this: 

A musician's story.

A long, long time ago, there was an intern at a recording studio where a young musician walks in with his guitar and sits down to wait for the start of his session. While he's waiting, he pulls the guitar out of its case and begins to play. A bit of conversation ensues until the young musician offers the guitar and says "Do you wanna play it?"

So the intern takes the guitar and plays it for a few minutes until the studio manager walks up and says

"Oh good. You know each other."

They don't, of course. They just met. But it turns out, you see, this wasn't any young man with a guitar. This was Paul Simon's son, there to record an album.

Paul Simon. Of Simon & Garfunkel.

And then, out of the blue, Paul Simon’s son says

"I actually wasn't supposed to take the guitar out of the house."

Huh?

Yeah. Not his guitar. His dad's guitar.

Paul Simon’s guitar.

And what's so special about the guitar?

It's the one he used during Simon & Garfunkel's heyday.

At which point the intern carefully hands the guitar back to its owner's son.

Many, many, many years later, Linzy 'n I are standing outside with this former musician, this once upon a time intern who just paid a coupla things back.

Some tasty gear.

And a story.

From one musician...

To another.

☺️ ❤️ ❤️

[mega2wheellife]

a simple gift

glass sand & brass

hourglass

I thought you’d like this

she murmured

looking into my eyes

yes yes I do thank you

taking it not her

into my hands

feeling the weight

the heft

solid construction

cold brass & glass

wondering just where

I might put it

I had nothing to give her

in return

but a peck on the cheek

a simple gift

or was it

to signify the end

of our time?

neil benbow

[white-bryony]

Reawakening

I was given a gift the other day. Nothing large nor costly as time or gold, but paper and ink bound into the belonging of someone else. A poem. A simple thought, a simple act, but more precious diamonds and pearls. For that ink is almost flesh and blood, a glimpse into the soul, of the boundless beauties it's giver holds and that for me alone were told.

[reverseblackholeofwords]

Did the host do anything special for his birthday?

The Host hates his birthday. It serves as just another reminder of who he was and the terrible things he once did. He never looks forward to it, and rather than celebrating, he usually finds himself locked away in his library trying to push away memories of the Author.

But this year is different because Anti doesn’t know this. The glitch only knows that he wants to do something at least a little bit thoughtful for the Host’s birthday to thank him for teaching Anti to control his abilities and his fears. So the night before, he steals the Host’s cane, hoping it won’t be missed for very long.

When the Host wakes up the next morning though, he doesn’t even bother getting out of bed. The memories come flooding in of what this day means to so many, the day that the Author was born, sadistic and wily and evil. The Author broke people, but in the end it was he who ended up the most broken. And now, here he is, lying in this bed alone, blinded because of his mistakes.

When Anti finishes with his gift, he glitches back into the library expecting to find the Host in a heated temper because of his missing cane, but instead, he finds him curled up in bed trying to wipe away the bloodied tears as he hears the glitch appear nearby. “Anti? What are you doing here?”

Anti bites his cheek when he realizes that the Host has been crying and looks down at the cane in his hands. “I, uh…” His anger suddenly flares up at himself for being so careless. He should’ve known today didn’t mean good things for the Host, just as his own birthday was nothing to celebrate either. “‘m stupid. I should’a known this was a bad idea.”

He drops the cane and disappears, but the Host hears the clatter of the fallen present and gets up to inspect it. When his hands brush the familiar cane, he realizes the change instantly. Once where he felt uneven wood, the Host’s fingers can now discern the patterns of leafy vines curling around the cane. It calms his nerves as he follows the lengths of the vines to a place where his name is carved elegantly, “The Host.”

Not “The Author,” but his own name. Not a reminder of the crimes that the Author committed but a thank-you for help that the Host provided.

Host smiles and gives a breathy laugh, wet with tears, and he gets out of bed, cleans himself up, and goes out to find the others so that he won’t have to spend today alone with his memories but rather surrounded by his friends.

[ny5hudson]

A Simple Gift || Finchel

Finn stood outside of the apartment door, a bit nervous to walk inside. He hadn't seen Rachel all day which, of course, meant that he had been missing her all day. He felt horrible about the way things went down the night before, and had been regretting the way he handled the situation. This whole space and needing time notion sounded much easier being said. Actually doing it was killing him. And now here he was, pacing back and forth in the hallway, preparing himself to go in to see her. His grip tightened around the teddy bear he had gotten her. After leaving this morning he walked around, got some coffee, and passed by a little gift shop where he saw it in the window. He immediately thought of her. A bear holding a gold star (she had quite a few star decorated items in her room, so he only assumed she liked them) that said congrats on it. It seemed perfect, so he bought it, along with a small card where he wrote a note.

Rachel, Congratulations. You are a star and deserve all the success in the world.  Love, Finn

Too Hallmarky.

Rachel, I'm in love with you. Finn 

No! He didn't want to freak her out.

Rachel, I'm not good at this kind of thing. I can't come up with the right words to describe how much you mean to me, but it's so much more than you think. I'm so proud of you. Finn 

He felt satisfied with that. Plus he kept asking the girl behind the counter for a new card and she was glaring at him, annoyed. Taking in a breath, Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and coming inside. There was no one in the living room, so he made his way to her bedroom door and knocked. Once he heard her say he could come in, he peeked his head in, giving an awkward smile once he saw her. "Hey." He simply said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He kept the bear in back of him, hidden, as he stepped towards her.  "I saw you were all anxious for me to get home." He let out a soft chuckle. "I found this in a little gift shop this morning and thought of you. It's nothing really..." He said with a shrug, handing her the gift, biting his lip nervously.