The end of year parties at band camp were always crazy.
The flutes were behind the bar serving champagne while the French horn tried to chat up as many girls as he could.
The tam-tams flirted with the tom-toms while the euphoniums got caught talking to the snare drum.
The bassoons were acting like buffoons while the glockenspiels told dirty, German jokes.
The bass drum spent the whole night making sure the cymbals didn’t clash while the trumpets played Miles and smoked cigarettes and looked cool.
Everyone clapped when the tambourines arrived.
And the cellos just smooched in the closet.
Some Friday Fictioneers for you with the prompt coming from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
If you enjoy the writing here head on over to TheIstanbulletin.com – The blog I co-write about living and working in Turkey (It’s mostly about eating though)