The Skating Trumpet Blower

Pete — Sun, 24 Feb 2008 04:42:23 GMT

Smooth sea ripples lightly between multi-coloured floating houses, each level turns slowly in opposite directions creating a mirage of moving colours. From a distance they look like twisting sweets that you'd buy in a corner store. Above, clouds dance across the blue, blue sky creating patterns as you might see in a Heinz baked beans 'shapes' tin....a walrus, a rhino and a long ripple caterpillar. Below between the floating houses, waitresses dressed garishly, glide-skate across the waters blowing trumpets from their anonymous faces. They can not see and have no mouths. The trumpets seem permanently glued to their faces, on the end of each trumpet is a small round mirror. Further back a robotic bull tosses his head back in disgust. "Don't come near me or I'll nail you!" he roars mechanically. He lifts his tails and farts. The waitress slips upon the water suddenly, the trumpet bends under her weight. It is no longer playable. Sirens go off over the city of floating houses....but no one comes out to look - it remains as deserted as it ever was. Only a water serpent pops his head out and takes a look, its eyes narrow, it spurts water at the waitress and disappears. The waitress tries to blow the trumpet once again....she sputters, and fails. She sputters again, then skates across the water again and finds the dove machine. The dove’s eye moves and regards her cautiously. "I suppose you want fixing then, huh?" he said. "Sputter, sputter." she sputtered. "I wish you'd learn to talk properly like the rest of us...you lot and your bloody trumpets, just can't help yourselves can you?" Sputter, sputter" she sputtered again. A cream tart went by, it mulched to itself quietly contemplating the day through its cherry eye. "A red day for you tart?" Dove machine said. "Mulch, mulch," said Tart. "Jolly good, there we are trumpet girl, back to normal." Trumpet girl grinned from ear to ear, although she didn't actually have any ears to speak of at all. "Tarantara...tarantara!" She cried. She skated away swirling around between the houses, various melodies like horns echoed between the buildings. Steam puffed out from bright chimneys as the sounds emanated from each one. Dove watched her skate away, "Another good days work..." The waitress disappeared into a hazy blur of the sunset, her trumpet blowing incessantly in pure joy. The End

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The Skating Trumpet Blower