Birthed am I, with a rush of breath and percussing of upper and lower flesh, buzzing in perfect tight pitch. Moisture will stay with me for a time, until I navigate the perfect purposeful corridors of twisting brass. The journey is as long as it needs to be; my potential trembling within me, spiraling forth as light appears at the end of the tunnel. I burst from infancy and into my waiting life, playing my small part from a bar in a section of a piece of a much larger work; without the rest of my brethren I am nothing, yet without me, incomplete are they.
The journey is more wonderful than I had imagined; once free I soar and expand, merging with the whole, staying true to myself. I give my gift freely, without thought, for it is my purpose. Lighter than air, as intentional as love, I become an embodiment of emotion and feeling. Spread, swell, widen, heighten; into each canal and through even flesh, bone, and steel; resonance achieved.
Then I can feel myself spreading apart- the pieces of whole which make me begin to wane; diminish and distort. Through one more thick layer, as much as I can penetrate, weakly I remain constitute. Stretching out I feel a void; an absence of being, an ending to my life. What a journey; how good to be essential, how beautiful to be a part of something bigger than myself. I fade then; accomplished, making way for further passion, the breezes who come after me to grace the atmosphere.
Originally Published in Branching Out: International Tales of Brilliant Flash Fiction, 7/8/2021 brilliantflashfiction.com