A/N: I have no excuse for this. I wrote it when I was trying to work out some writer's block when I was writing the second chapter to The Breathing Process.
Maybe someone will like it, or it'll cheer up someone's day though, so I thought I'd post it.
The bow to the strings, Agatha took a deep breath in preparation, her old fingers clenched around the base of the wooden bow, the Soil Stradivarius pressed tightly against her chin, she plotted her symphony, and her arm drowned in, the grinding sound of a beautiful devil's chord rang out, Agatha opened her eyes once she realized they were closed. Pulling back, she delved down for a second devil's chord, a prologue if you would.
The sound was piercingly clear; Agatha played the notes so well on nights like these. When she allowed her old bones to remember the pain of loosing her husband, she thought it slightly funny how she played all her notes in the thought of minor. Her devil's chord was a diminished 5th, never an augmented 4th. Her demons summoned before her by the call of the music, she faced down her oppressors while the song she played soared higher and higher, touching the heavens and the hearts and minds of everyone who sat around the campfire.
Crazy Wolfgang he called himself, and his body guard, the Lone Wanderer, who had found this perfect instrument in which she could bring to bear against the darkness that often filled her days. The blonde girl next to him, leaning into his arm, smiling, with her eyes closed as she listened to the tune that flowed from Agatha. Her name was Sarah, the Lion of the Lyon's Pride.
Agatha hit the final crescendo; the last note of the song hit the stars with a whining complexity, sending a shiver through the crowd, touching all of the Wasteland through the elderly woman's radio station. With a slide, the symphony came to a close, and for the first time since the Purifier had been activated, the Capital Wasteland was silent.
A/N: Ehh, I hope you liked it. As always, comments and critiques are always appreciated.