I Had a Cello

When a mysterious man leaves his cello at a bus stop, a woman struggles between the yearning to play it and the desire to find its rightful owner.

Person playing Cello

Weekly Newsletter

The best of The Saturday Evening Post in your inbox!

SUPPORT THE POST

I watched her walking toward the parking lot and reached out for my cello. It was gone. How could that be? The street was empty; not one pedestrian had passed by, no car had pulled up to the curb. I looked wildly around me. My backpack was still there, exactly where I had put it beside the cello. Icy waves of panic flooded through my arms and legs. Dazedly, I lifted up my backpack. Beside it, something on the ground caught my eye, illuminated by street light and moon. I bent down to look. It was a pristine white, perfectly folded, origami crane.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Become a Saturday Evening Post member and enjoy unlimited access. Subscribe now

Comments

  1. What an exciting first! The story read like fact until the very end. It had me on the edge of my chair until the denouement and reminded of O. Henry.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *