She sits down, her small, tight box in hand. The girl, clearly a young child, opens the black box, and reveals the pieces and parts of a flute.
Surprisingly quickly, she assembles the flute. Its silver metal glints in the light of the vibrant sunset the girl sits before. She swabs the interior of the instrument with a wooden rod and a small cloth scrap.
The girl brings the flute up to her mouth and begins to play. The notes of an emotional, compact symphony echo throughout the valley. She sits there for what seems like eons, playing. In reality, it is only a few minutes. Her music captivates, seeming to become an orchestra.
She nimbly dances through the grass, her body wet with dew. The girl seems to glow in the dusk. She suddenly comes to a halt with her melody.
The memory of her music echoes around the valley long after she is gone. Drawn back to earth, mystified and awed, I remember that I forgot to ask her name.
Surprisingly quickly, she assembles the flute. Its silver metal glints in the light of the vibrant sunset the girl sits before. She swabs the interior of the instrument with a wooden rod and a small cloth scrap.
The girl brings the flute up to her mouth and begins to play. The notes of an emotional, compact symphony echo throughout the valley. She sits there for what seems like eons, playing. In reality, it is only a few minutes. Her music captivates, seeming to become an orchestra.
She nimbly dances through the grass, her body wet with dew. The girl seems to glow in the dusk. She suddenly comes to a halt with her melody.
The memory of her music echoes around the valley long after she is gone. Drawn back to earth, mystified and awed, I remember that I forgot to ask her name.
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