Melody

My thoughts were turned to my bruises and scabs only partially healed as I walked home from the doctor’s office this morning. I turned a corner downtown and was struck by the sweet sound of a man’s whistle, which, being both a cheerful and well employed melody, at once lifted my mood. Being the aspiring whistler I am, I greeted the man and introduced myself. "Pardon me sir, I couldn’t help but admire your skills as a whistler. I’m myself an aspiring whistler, though my tunes are less spirited than your own and often bring pain rather than gladness to those that hear them. Would you please honor me with a lesson in the art of whistling."

He smiled at me warmly, “Nothin' too it really. I wouldn’t much call it an art at all. But I think I see where your goin wrong lad.” He reached towards my face and quickly, but in a very nonchalant manner, ripped a scab from my upper lip. “Have a go at it now why don’t you.”

I pressed my lips together and without effort blew the most melodious tune my lips had ever sung. The man began to harmonize with my own tune and we chatted in song for a while before we waved each other goodbye and continued on our way.

The rest of the way home, as I whistled, I wasted no thought on my bruises or my scabs.