Plis asked me to use the World Cup Song for inspiration.
I gave it a listen and was met with an assault of whistling, battle sounding drums, and general party noises. It was really difficult to find a story in the tone of the song, because it basically doesn’t change, it’s just a constant party anthem sound. So I’ve tried to write a story that mirrors that.
I miss home. Home was quiet, I think. Drum drum drum. What was quiet? I try recalling. A ball bounces off my head. Drum drum drum. Is it when there are no drums? No party? No whistling? I can’t imagine. Isn’t whistling the only way to breathe? Don’t drums keep my heart beating? I test it. I put my hand on the nearest drum. It stops for a moment. Suddenly I remember. Being torn out of my home. Creatures with drums. The drumming creature pries my hand off the drum. Drum drum drum. Perhaps there was no quiet. Perhaps there was no home. Perhaps I’d always been here. Drum drum drum. That must be it.