Trumpet

old-trumpet-1411142_640 Dust and rust fell from the trumpet like snow.

“It’s a beauty,” said Grandpa Frank.  “Go ahead and play it, Erik.”

Erik had no intention of following the request.  “Wow, no, I couldn’t play your old horn. I’m no good,” Erik tried to deflect.  He was terrified of what tetanus in the mouth would look like.

Grandpa urged again, egging on the grandson to give the horn a chance.  Erik reluctantly drew the horn upward.

Grandpa Frank slapped his head.  “You do everything people tell you? Don’t be silly. This thing needs to be melted down.”

Erik couldn’t agree more.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Trumpet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s