The flute has been playing for an awful long time. It’s been hogging the stage, leaving out the viola, classical piano, and harp in the very back. I can see the viola sitting impatiently. The classical piano is scowling. And the harp is just fuming.
The flute does not seem to care, though. It’s enjoying itself in melodious gluttony.
“Oi. (Hey.) Yamete kudasai. (Please, stop it.)” I work up the courage to say.
“Nan da? (What is it?) Tanoshii desu ne. (It’s fun, you know.)” Hums the flute.
“Wakatta yo. (I understand that.) Demo ne. (But, you know.) Anata no tomodachi wa… (Your friends are…)”
“Urusai ne. (You’re annoying.) Kiite yo. (Just listen.)”
And then I stop and listen.
It’s saddening that such a selfish instrument can be such a wonderful creator. The flute indulges itself in a volatile, excited, flighty solo that inevitably forms an unearthly, insubstantial sound.
It is absolutely dream-like.
“Anata wa kiite imasu ka? (Are you listening?)” the flute breathes.
“Hai. (Yes.)” I answer, lightheaded.
“Hontou ni? (Really?)”
“Hai. (Yes.)”
And then I am knocked over the head with an open palm.
“Yo, are you listening?”
“HAI! (YES!)” I yell out, startled.
“Hi? What you saying “hi” for?” Greg says ignorantly. “Dude, you were spacing out just now. Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, I heard what you said.” I respond, rubbing the back of my head. “Maybe…”
“Maybe? Whatever, dude. You need to get your head straightened out.” Greg insists.
Greg’s face suddenly becomes awestruck.
What’s he looking at? Is there something on my face? Oh, wait. Let me guess. Hmm…I wonder what it is. Whatever could it be? What usually happens after I wake up from a pretentious dream of…music? It has something to do with instruments…I think. What did I dream of again? Was I even dreaming? What I’ve been experiencing could very well be sporadic hallucinations. Visual and audible hallucinations. Am I really going crazy? I’m too young to have a mental breakdown. Come on. Give a seventeen year old a break. I’ve donated to charities before. I don’t need to keep crying every time I doze off. Why are tears streaming down my face again? This kind of physical reaction is embarrassing and easily misunderstood among the peoples of society. I need to get a hold of myself. I’m becoming a baby again. I’ve dealt with those years of infancy already! Allow me to live the few years of a teenager.
Wiping away my tears, I say “I’m fine. No need to look so dumbstruck.”
“B-but you’re crying. Did I really smack you that hard across the head?”
“I’ve just been feeling weird lately. It’s fine.”
“Yeah, of course you’ve been feeling weird. You’re crying out of happiness, right?” Greg smiles, smacking me forcefully on the back. “You’ve caught a beauty, Mister.”
“What are you talking about now?” I groan in pain, massaging my back with both hands.
“Aya! You’re girlfriend!” Greg announces excitedly.
YOU ARE READING
Sora no Shukufuku ~ Blessing in the Sky (Book One)
RomantizmA neurotic teenager is visited by a celestial entity. This story has been written and published for younger sister. Enjoy, everyone. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
