Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Life of a Lowly Recorder

Oh believe me I had Ambitions when I was young. I wanted to grow up to be a flute to be played in a great symphony hall or even in a marching band two hundred strong. I also thought how great to be a woodwind, those throaty instruments played so lovingly at jazz concerts. Oh yes I'd happily be an oboe or a clarinet, for the sounds that come from them are hauntingly beautiful.

So what did I become you ask, I turned out to be a lowly recorder. Not only just a recorder but also a recorder stuck in a grade school band. To be used and abused by just any kid who wants to make some noise. Ah my friend, I say all this and yet I'm not telling a tale of woe for I am happy with my lot in life. I was sad at first as I realized my simple little notes would never be heard in any of the great concert halls of the world. The satisfaction in my life was gained when I noticed the joy of a child's face when he could pick me up and play a tune. To be able to produce music brings joy to all children, rich or poor, good or evil it doesn't matter. To be able to play a song makes a child feel accomplished and the pride that comes from showing parents what they can do.

Yes, you can see I'm scarred for life; I have scratches and nicks. I even have some of Timmy Jones' blood from when Mary Stevens hit him in the head with me for saying she had cooties. Then there are some of the terrible sounds that come out of me when a child first picks me up. I swear I use to worry about becoming tone deaf but now I understand that can't happen to an instrument. All of that strife is worth it for just the chance to be the first music played by a budding musician. Just the thought of being the first inspiration of someone great gives me more satisfaction than playing in all the concert halls of the world. So yes I maybe just a lowly recorder but I'm happy and I feel fulfilled and isn't that all that matters in life.

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