It was the morning of the debut of Nigel’s newest symphony. Rising from his bed, he felt energized, although he hadn’t slept a wink. He was simply too excited. Reviews of his last work, a magnificat entitled, “Holy Mary’s Praise for Our Lord,” had been universally panned by audiences and reviewers alike. It had been called everything from “facile” to “phrenetic.”
Such criticism had wounded Nigel to the core. It was unfair of them to attack his work with such gusto. Granted, there were some imperfections to the magnificat, but taken as a whole, Nigel felt is was perhaps his greatest work to date. Now he was back, only a year later. He couldn’t afford another failure. It would be the death knell of his career as a composer.
“I know!” he said to himself. “I’ll go for a ride before breakfast. That will calm my nerves.” He pulled the cord, and when his manservant, Henry, responded, Nigel gave him his instructions. “Bring Nelly around to the front. I’m going for a ride.”
Riding down the path at a steady clip, the smell of the autumn air was intoxicating to Nigel. Rotting leaves, mixed with a bit of honeysuckle, was a balm to his jangled nerves. He didn’t even notice the long black snake that startled Nelly, his horse. It reared and whinnied in fright, twisting her torso in the air in order to position her right hoof to the precise position to stamp out the poor creature.
Nigel was thrown from his saddle. The sound his neck made when his head made contact with a rock was similar to that of a walnut being cracked. He lost consciousness. The world went from a tapestry of colored leaves to a blank, dark slate.
# Fandango with One Word Challenge #FOWC #Debut