Here’s another flash fiction writing effort – with an illustration by me of course.

The Trumpet  (Story and illustration by Sue Clancy)

Billy had very good hearing. He heard someone walking towards him on the sidewalk.  But he didn’t look up. He was busy with his toy cars, trucks and animals.

“That’s a Marmota Monax” said an old man pointing to one small brown stuffed animal sitting on top of a fire truck.  Billy looked up from the toys around him on the ground.  It was Mr. Haan the volunteer librarian at the natural history museum. Mr. Haan held his ear trumpet one end in his ear the other wider end pointed at Billy so he could hear in case Billy said something.

But Billy didn’t say anything. Billy stared.

A little blue bird flew up and perched on the old man’s shoulder and while Billy watched the bird hopped to the edge of the trumpet and began to sing.   Mr. Haan smiled through his white beard, laughed, and bent down again to Billy and the toys on the ground. “Yes sir, that’s a Marmota Monax alright.”  He looked at Billy while positioning his ear trumpet expectantly, the blue bird happily hovering in the air just above his head.

Billy still didn’t say anything and looked at the device pressed against the old man’s ear.  It was shiny and green and shaped like a funnel or maybe like a metal ice cream cone.  Billy liked ice cream cones. Chocolate was his favorite flavor. The ear trumpet glinted in the sunlight. “Wasn’t that a cold thing to put in your ear?” Billy wondered to himself.  Mr. Haan smelled as he always did at the museum; like old books and blueberries.  Blueberry ice cream is good too.

Lowering the ear trumpet, putting it in the pocket of his brown tweed jacket Mr. Haan smiled again “That’s a very nice Marmota Monax you’ve got there” he said pointing again at the stuffed animal. Then he continued walking down the sidewalk laughing, his blue bird flying after him, landing on his head, flying high again, perching on his shoulder, then up in the air, singing loudly the whole while.

Billy watched Mr. Haan thinking “What did he say? Something about a Mom-otter-moan-axe? What is that? And why did he keep pointing to Mister Groundhog?”