The Violin

A violin sat on his shoulder.  Notes rang from the instrument and filled the room with the most wondrous music he had ever heard.  With every wave of his bow, images of astronauts and aliens, cowboys and aliens, warriors and aliens (he was in a phase) filled his mind.  Stories filled out around the music he was creating and he loved every moment.

He did not notice the two figures standing near his doorway, slowly closing the door.

“Oh goodness, it sounds like a cat being mauled by a different cat being mauled by a large tiger with a harmonica in its throat,” said the boy’s mother shutting the door.

“He’s learning, be nice,” said the father, “I mean, you’re right, but whisper a little.”

“Like he could hear me over that anyway.”

“It will start sounding like a screaming racoon soon enough,” the father hoped.

 

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