2 December 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2939: a session musician

Photo by the author, Deeann D. Mathews

“I am not offended at all, young Mr. Melvin Trent – you do well to make the best use of the opportunities in your Covid bubble, and as for me, I have no shame in moonlighting as a session musician.”

So, Col. H.F. Lee put his guitar, banjo, and mandolin in his F-150 and rolled up to the Trent house at the Veteran's Lodge where 21-year-old Melvin, firstborn son of Sgt. Vincent Trent, still had his regular studio. The sergeant, the colonel, and their neighbor, Capt. R.E. Ludlow, came up to check on the homes they were renting there, and guesstimate when they might return.

But, the Veteran's Lodge was not charging rent due to what had happened a half-mile down the road; there was the southern edge of the washout of Bayard Heights, and the road in front of the homes had become the access road for all the heavy vehicles and equipment that had to be brought up to try to mitigate that situation. The noise and the vibrations from all that were not suitable to veterans to live around, owing to PTSD issues for many … and even Melvin knew to make a day out of his invite and have the colonel get situated in the perfect quiet of his studio before the traffic and noise started.

It was a good situation. Melvin knew a number of recording musicians looking for a plucked string player to add to their tracks, and they had already agreed to provide samples for his tracks and beats … and everybody was going to eat, because he would use those tracks and beats to point back to all those projects. Col. Lee was a member of the group Tricolor Sound, and they too were going to get good traffic and sales from this situation.

Melvin's younger brother nine-year-old Milton and nine-year-old cousin Vertran Stepforth were also video-conferencing in, and different members over the course of the day enjoyed listening to all the different music and watching Vertran plan on including things on his YouTube and Threespeak channels to promote all the projects while Milton worked on things he could do new dances on.

“Definitely your grandsons!” Mrs. Velma Stepforth said to her husband, billionaire Thomas Stepforth Sr.

“Yep, all working to not even need my money already,” Mr. Stepforth said, “and I love it because this way, Milton is not out trying to do manly embroidery with staple guns and creating winter wonderlands with baking soda with George Ludlow!”

“Yeah, Team No-Sleep Productions is blessing all of them,” Mrs. Stepforth said. “Love it!”

At the end of the planned work of the day, Col. Lee and Melvin stepped out of the studio, and both were shocked by the noise and traffic in the half-mile, but then the colonel smiled, and Melvin was surprised by the suddenly dreamy look on his face.

“Record as much of that as you want for ambience,” he said, “and then I am going to make a gift to your work of a mandolin improvisation.”

To come out of the noise of life, into peace, and there create … Melvin marveled to hear the colonel giving his expression of that in on his mandolin for 15 minutes.

“Colonel,” he said at the end, “you might want to not just be giving that away … that's a glory of a piece.”

The colonel smiled.

“I know the Creator of music,” he said. “He'll use me to make more. Thank you for the most enjoyable off day in music I have had for many years, Melvin – go on and make all you can of that and build yourself up into the creative you are becoming.”