Sophia's flute

Sophia does magic with just blowing. Her music makes my body vibrate and I can't help singing to the rhythm of her sighs. When Sophia's lips settle on my mouth, I feel her music transmitting to me. "You sings so good" she always tells me every time we finish some of our recitals. I wish I could tell her she is my muse.

How did I get to feel this for her? I can’t explain myself! I only know that she was my first friend (the only one). When Sophia blows and I sing, it is as if the world ceased to exist for a moment. Applause always invades us and people chant "another one"; but she never agrees to sing again. I heard her say once that she does it so that she and I can rest. As I would like to say my greatest rest is on her lips.

How hard to see life from here! Not being able to make any sound except for singing. How sad that my existence is based on moments of fleeting glory that ends when Sophia closes the case. But what else can I ask? I'm just a flute... Sophia's flute.

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This is a text that I wrote for "short story contest", you can participate by entering here!