Welcome to the Write…Edit…Publish blog hop. The theme for this August edition is – Moonlight Sonata. 
This wonderful and haunting melody was completed in 1801 and dedicated in 1802 to Beethoven’s pupil Countess Giulietta Guicciardi. Ludwig Van Beethoven’s 14th piano sonata was given the popular name Moonlight Sonata by a critic, five years after Beethoven’s death. He compared the first movement to a boat floating in the moonlight on Lake Lucerne.
The piece is one of Beethoven’s most popular compositions for the piano, and it was a popular favorite even in his own day.
I searched my computer and unearthed this pic of my piano sheet music. The bloghop is a gentle nudge to flex my stiff fingers, clean the cobwebs from my brain, get onto the piano and continue practising. 
For this edition, I tried to experiment with Deep POV.
I imagine that this piece would fit into the ending of this story. However, it’s still rough around the edges, a work-in-progress. Please let me know what you think. Word count: 756 words.
Carmelita agreed to meet me one last time in the piano bar of the Skyy Hotel. The stunning rooftop location boasted 360 degrees of breathtaking ocean views and the humidity blanketed the city, a throwback to a summer afternoon twenty years earlier.
Five minutes late and out of breath, I approached the woman who stood at the far end of the room: a slim waiflike creature, dishevelled appearance as the ridiculous hot air plastered her straggly hair to her face, her cheeks; everything about her was dull, in contrast to the sparkle in her eyes.
I did a double take. But who was this creature?
“I didn’t think you would come.” The wrong words: weak and pathetic. I could have kicked myself.
Her gaze was direct, unnerving. Eyes that bored into my soul.
But my memory held another face, a familiar face and one which haunted my every waking moment; a face which did not exist, not anymore.
Her eyes blazed. “Is that all you can say? No surprises, I suppose. Still the same…male ego intact.”
Brooding and pensive words hit deep in the pit of my stomach.
This was not the re-connection I had hoped for.
I reached for her trembling hands and she flinched.
The opening strains of a melody intruded, and we both turned to face the bandstand. It was empty, except for a young man seated at a white baby grand piano, face upturned and eyes closed.
We stood motionless for a few minutes as the pianist’s story unfolded, the ebony and ivory collaboration filling the space with a sense of promise. The beautiful melody weaved its way into the atmosphere, both odd and comforting.
Unfamiliar hands rested in mine: damp, limp, trembling gently, while the electricity sparked lightly on the back of my neck.
A contemplative moment ensued and she looked at me, “Why are we here?”
“I had to see you, one last time.” Whatever you do, don’t blow this.
“You know this won’t change a thing, don’t you?” The words slammed into my solar plexus.
“You have to hear me out.”
She gently disengaged her hands, smoothed a runaway wisp of hair and the familiar, thin chain winked around her neck. My thumping heart beat just a fraction faster.
“Do I?” She turned away sharply, her silhouette etched against the dusky orange skyline, as the sun made a slow, steady descent.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. About us. There’s no escaping the truth.” It was more of a concession than anything else. Who was I to even talk about escape?
“Us? There’s no us.”
Shadows danced in the dusk and nausea settled in my stomach. “There was… there could be… if you just face the truth…”
“Who’s truth? Mine? Yours?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever happened… that was a long time ago.”
“Far too long. People change. I’ve changed. You know nothing about me.”
“I know what we shared, and I know you felt it too.” I refused to budge.
Her eyes narrowed. “That was then. This is now. You are who you are. I am who I am. We cannot change what is.”
Dusk released the shadows and I swallowed hard. “Listen, it’s our song.”
The soft strains of the melody continued and the notes lingered on the edges of a subconscious idea – seeking, sensing… looking for a gap to slip in and weave its magic; like it had, so many times before.
“You idiot. You’ve ruined it. Forever.” Her eyes were daggers of disbelief.
“But I thought…”
“Thought what? That you could lure me here and then suck me in with the song? What a cheap shot.”
The melody gained momentum, the shadows beckoned but still I refused to succumb. “But it’s always been our good luck charm.”
“What a cheek! You’re unbelievable.” She shook her head. “Still clinging to a distant memory. You need to let go.”
How many times had the song woven it’s magic?
The song was my only hope. “I can’t let go.”
“You have to. I’ve moved on.”
It was not to be. Not ever.
The pianist’s face glowed with passion. His fingers glided over the piano keys, as the melody built to a crescendo and silent tears streamed down Carmelita’s cheeks.
In that bittersweet moment the collective weight of our conflicts, our sorrows came crashing down on our heads.
I opened my mouth to say something but the shadows consumed me.
It was futile.
The magic had disappeared.
The melody belonged to another time, another place.
I hope you enjoyed my piece!
I’ll get around to the other participants over the next few days.
Hi,
The sadness of a love that once was but for whatever has slipped away is very obvious. The dialogue shows the dichotomy between what she wants and what he desired and it is very well written.
An engaging take on the prompt.
Shalom aleichem
Thanks, Pat.
They are not on the same page… anymore.
This is a sad and fascinating read! Very well written 🙂
Thank you, Damyanti.
Oh dear, not the reunion anyone would want. But so well written, and the dream of many. Most likely better a dream than reality. 🙂
Thank you, Yolanda.
The dream of many… I’ll think more about this as I flesh it out.
What a sad encounter. His hopes are burning. I wonder what he did to inspire such an implacable attitude in the woman. Must have been something unforgivable.
Thank you, Olga.
He did something terrible which was also shaped by long-ago circumstances.
How I wish the magic had worked. This was heartbreaking but very engaging.
Thank you, Sonia!
The magic belonged to another time…
A once bright future extinguished. While their song remains a reminder of the past. Well written.
Nancy
Thank you, Nancy.
In another life, the song was always the glue that kept them together. But why?
Oh! Sounds like communication has been an issue for these two.
So much hurt and sadness. I hope they each find their way.
Well done!
Thank you, Jemi.
Yes, it’s a culmination of things: communication challenges, life’s curveballs and a terrible event all contribute to this moment.
What a sad story. Well-written. I could feel her resentment and his angst. Characters and dialog fit the story perfectly. Nice inclusion of the prompt.
Thank you, Lenny Lee.
I’m happy that you felt her resentment and his angst. That was my intention.
A poignant tale of lost love! I was hoping for a happy outcome, but that doesn’t always happen in life. You portrayed that perfectly!
Thank you, Debbie.
I didn’t want the HEA perspective. Lost love is all too real.
Hi Michelle – so so true, so often, for some of us … wonderful take – and sadly she’d be right … it wouldn’t work for the future … lost love, is lost love … especially when subsequently craved. Great story telling … I could see them – more stories, please – cheers Hilary
Thank you, Hilary.
You stated it perfectly. Lost love is futile… especially when subsequently craved.
The tension was palpable, and the pain and heartbreak (past and present) so very real. Well done.
Thank you, Elephants Child.
I’m glad you felt the (possibly) never-to-be-resolved pain and heartbreak.
Hi Michelle. You’ve kept us guessing with the backstory. It’s like they don’t get each other. Whatever made her so bitter and dismissive must be something he perhaps failed to understand. Looks like this is the end. Heartbreaking.
Thank you, Denise.
It’s a culmination of things: communication challenges, life’s curveballs and a horrible event all contribute to this moment.
Misunderstanding would be a cruel, yet interesting perspective. Something to ponder.
It’s a sad story but a true experience for many. I enjoyed how you weaved the music into your story.
Thank you, Natalie.
Hi Michelle,
A wonderful and descriptive build up to a very sad ending. But I actually felt this ending coming. You set it up beautifully. Weaving in the music into the dialogue was perfect. WELL DONE!
Thank you, Michael.
I was aiming for a slow and steady disintegration… glad you enjoyed it.
I love it the tension built and changed, just like in the song. I could hear it playing, giving these characters a pull and tug.
(I also played the song on my piano before writing a response. Great prompt! This was my first time participating in the WEP Challenge.)
Thank you, Mary.
Since you also play this beautiful piano piece, I’m grateful for your wonderful comment.
Welcome to WEP. I hope to read more of your work on the WEP circuit.
There’s a lot of history between these two, and I’m curious about all that went wrong. Sometimes you can’t recapture what was once precioius, no matter how hard you try or how much you want it.
Thank you, LG.
You’re so right. Sometimes it’s best to “let sleeping dogs lie.”
Poignant and engaging flash. This made me want to know what has gone wrong between the couple. Well done, Michelle!
Thank you, Nilanjana.
It’s a long, long story.
Very sad. Re-kindling old love would have been lovely. Thanks for your contribution to the WEP this month!
Thank you for visiting, Lee!
Re-kindling old love would have been lovely but what about the expectations that come with it?
Beautifully written and sad. They just aren’t meant to be together anymore.
Thank you, Shannon.
Sometimes you have to accept that it was not meant to be, no matter how hard you try and piece it back together.
A tragic tale of music’s power to make love blossom and falter. Along with how important music can be in life, regardless of what is happening in a person’s life. Well done, Michelle.
Thank you, Christopher.
You’ve captured it quite perfectly.
This is a powerfully written piece. It brought to mind a couple of guys I knew a long time ago, one when I was in high school, one when I was in my early 20s. For context, I graduated high school in 1983. Both of these guys friended me on Facebook, thinking I’d still be that person I was decades ago. Thankfully, I’ve moved on from those days. I didn’t have the emotions Carmelita did about them trying to recreate the past. I was more baffled than anything else.
Thank you, Ornery Owl!
There was definitely unfinished business between these two… that may never be resolved.
An interesting back & forth.
I feel the same about dusting off the cobwebs and practicing again.
Thank you, Bernadette!
It seems that both you and I have to dust off the cobwebs… get back to practising. Good luck!