Life had returned — and music, with it.
Trees began to bud, flowers bloomed, and Hal Brenner stood at his usual spot by the bridge: guitar plugged into his amp, smile flashing a mile wide, fingers picking and strumming to songs that materialized before him.
No one knew why he played there, day after day, week after week. Sometimes he even showed up before sunrise.
But Hal’s return each year was as certain as spring.
He was always there, from April on — always smiling. Sometimes he wore sunglasses on those particularly bright days, but even then, you knew his eyes were closed as he tilted his head back, bobbing and jamming along to the riffs he breathed into the world.
So, in short: if you ever get caught at the red light near the bridge, you’ll hear him. Turn off the AC; roll the windows down. And let that rock and roll — that old poet named Hal Brenner — into your soul.
I love when stories are born into the world. They’re messy, imperfect, and raw. This is one of those stories. I didn’t want to change anything about it. I sat, I wrote, and this is what came out of me in one shot.
Thank you so much for reading “As Certain as Spring” — I hope you enjoyed it.
Writing prompt: If you are hoping to get some words on the page today, write a story that involves a red light, a soul, or a song. For an extra challenge, include all three. Happy writing, everyone, and I hope you have a great week!