Driving to work, a song I hadn't listened to in years began to play. It was a song my mother was fond of and images of our long car trips with mom singing at the top of her lungs joined me as I sang now in a similar fashion. When the song ended, I realized that I've never told my mom how much I like that song. It was more than a memory, it was a piece of her.
The next day I watched as my niece sang with all her heart to one of my favorite songs, and even though the words were in Swahili, she never missed a beat.
I began to wonder, like tribes of old passed stories and oral histories through their generations, do we pass music through ours?
Try writing a scene where one generation passes something to another. Is more passed then just the intended subject?
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