The Phonograph


The afternoon was gray and heavy with the threat of rain.


Old Possum had pulled the ancient phonograph and his grandmother’s equally ancient record collection out of the hall closet and, before long, the exquisitely calm yet haunting, almost-melancholy strains of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata floated across the otherwise quiet garden.


Possum closed his eyes and sighed; the music fitted the mood of the day perfectly, he decided.


(September 2022)


Story © Jennifer Singleton / Read+Purr
This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales, full of cozy vibes, delicious details, and generous dollops of imagination & whimsy. Click one of the first two buttons below to go to (or back to, if that’s where you fell down the rabbit hole) either the Public Garden archive page or (if you’re a Story Club member) to the Private Garden page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories. Want each week’s featured story delivered directly to your inbox? Subscribe to my Substack. 


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