The Cellist
by Emma Filtness

I want to rub hearts raw with horse hair, each wrenching note snagging on wet, pink muscle; to feel the drag of the bow on flesh, in breath; to make that awkward bray and mourning moan.

PHOTO: Cellist Alisa Wellerstein in concert.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: “The Cellist” is a little prose poem written after hearing a particularly beautiful and heart-wrenching cello accompaniment in an attempt to capture the emotional impact such sounds can have on a listener. It also made me wish I could play the cello (“Three Blind Mice” terribly on a violin when I was 12 is the closest I’ve got).


Emma Filtness
teaches Creative Writing at Brunel University London. She has published poetry and flash fiction in magazines and journals including Popshot, an illustrated magazine of new writing, and Pins and Needles, a journal of contemporary fairy tales. She likes writing about foxes and evil road sweepers, among other things.

Author photo by Joe Norman (Ibiza, 2014).