It was just about time for the service to begin. As worshipers filed in and found their seats, the organist slid onto the organ bench and punched a few stops. As her fingers hovered over the keys, she suddenly recoiled and let loose a glass-shattering, ear-piercing shriek, banshee-esque, “There’s blood on the keyboard!”
First the room was silent, then abuzz as ushers and choir members rushed over to see the blood-spattered keys. One faint-hearted alto fainted in a crumpled heap. As the organist leapt from the bench, phones appeared to take photos and dial 911. As anthem music flew everywhere from the music loft, the pastor had a feeling the service wouldn’t begin on time…
Alas, most of the above never actually happened. The only fact is the blood! One of our organists played with a cut on a finger that began to bleed. Unwilling to cut the piece short, “blood on the keyboard” became a part of our church’s lore and might just be the title of a future novel.
Waite for it... 