• It’s quiet, it sounds like a cheerful chirping bird after years of practice. The flute was her favorite pass time and instrument, it’s what got her through the hard times; Robin couldn’t help herself. She loved to play it any time and anywhere, she was the first chair in her band class and she was the lead player in the band she had come up with her friends. Robin mostly liked playing alone in her room on her small balcony up to the moon. Every night Robin would open up her curtain and stare up at the moon smiling and whisper. “Hello dear friend.” Then she would go over to her closet and carefully take out her most prized position and carefully ensemble the three silver colored pieces with so much care as if her flute was made of glass. She’d quietly tune it then silently walk back over to her doors and open them letting a quiet breeze, that only sounded like whisper, wash past her. Robin brought the flute to her mouth and blew into the small hole just under her bottom lip and started to play. The night air was soon filled with a blissful sound, as if a Nightingale bird had risen up from its nest and had come out to sing. The notes from Robin’s flute seemed to rise up and wrap their soothing sound around the moon, blanketing it from dark rain clouds. The wind blew through the trees and the grass making them sound like chimes harmonizing to Robin’s song; in the distance a dog howled singing along to the tune.
    Up high above her the stars seemed to twinkle in awe while a few shooting stars streaked across the sky applauding Robin. As the last notes came everything slowly became quiet, Robin eased her flute down away from her mouth and listened to the silent’s. She was very proud of herself, this had to be the best concert she had all week. “Good night.” She whispered with a large smiling spreading across her face. Robin turned slowly around on her heal and glided inside. This had been the perfect night.