Hi Everyone!

Let's Get the Juices Flowing! Let's get creative! I'm going to write a short story based on the Random Word HORN.

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Orchestral Horn

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Selling the Horn

I puffed my breath and blew into the curvy brass horn and all I heard was a stupid squeaking sound. I was certain that I would end up making someone go deaf from the obscene noises that I was producing. I hated the thing.

I sighed. "Mr. Johnson, I just can't do it."

The tall man with a streak of blue in his hair was always super-patient with everyone. He was skinny, skinnier than most other teachers, but his belly had this weird pudge that drooped over his belt when he bent down. I didn't know what that was all about, but I imagined it was his food baby. That always made me giggle.

Mr. Johnson patted me on my shoulder, nothing creepy just a quick couple of reassuring pats. "You can do it. I know it."

I pursed my lips and covered the mouthpiece. I just knew that it wouldn't work. I removed my lips, licked them to add a bit of moisture, and shoved them against the mouthpiece again. I blew into it, feeling the slight tickling and buzzing. As he had suggested before, I tried to say "home" into the Horn as hard and long as I could. Still just a few squeaks.

I dropped my hands and the horn to my lap, my arms tired of holding it up. "I knew it wouldn't work."

Mr. Johnson put on his scrutinizing face and squinted an eye at me. "Do we give up or do we keep trying? Is this something that you want to do?"

"No."

He looked surprised. "No? If you don't want to play the French Horn, why are you in the Band?"

I flushed, looking sideways. In the center of a group of other kids talking at each other or through each other was the one person that had made me feel like my stomach was made of peanut butter sandwiches dipped in milk.

He tilted his head until my widening eyes alerted him. Then he nodded and scratched his chin, thinking. A few moments later he snapped his fingers.

He leaned down and whispered. "They all like people in the band, don't they?"

I just nodded weakly.

He continued on. "Well, then let's get those lips ready to make some magic. You know the routine. Relax and let it happen."

He wiped the mouthpiece with a soft napkin and mimed for me to dry my lips before trying again.

I sighed and did what he suggested. Taking the horn, I pressed my lips against the mouthpiece on more time, swearing to myself that if this didn't work then I was going to run away and hide in the Auditorium. I inhaled deeply and tried to keep my breath from quivering as I hummed into the instrument.

The kids stopped their conversation and started clapping hard. I couldn't help but cry. That single note sounded so good. I must have looked as goofy as I felt, but I took my lips away from the mouthpiece and turned toward the kids.

My glance met with a warm smile and happy eyes, now able to meet them on their own terms. I felt the pleased pat on the shoulder and knew I had been sold on this instrument. I felt like I could suddenly do anything.

The End

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Thank you to everyone for reading my story! If you like it, please Upvote and Resteem and tell all your Steemian friends to come and take a look!