Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – Two Hundred and Forty-Eight

It was eerily quiet in the velvet darkness of the abbey lawn. The waiting girl shivered, and when the clock chimed midnight she was about to give up. But then she heard the faintest thread of music.

The whisper of sound swelled until it became the complex harmonies of plainsong, coming down the centuries from the throats of the monks displaced when their home was sacked at the whim of a vengeful king. The girl drank in every note and every subtle nuance.

Three months later, a flawless soprano voice brought an undiscovered melody to the ears of the world…

©jj 2019

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