Brothers of the Music

He pulled out some grass out of the field, bored. They both were looking up to the sky to see if there were any formations.

“I don’t see anything Frank. This is boring,” the boy said impatiently.
“Just wait a bit,” the other replied softly, “we might see something nice.”

The clouds were big and fluffy, as if you can just pick out a piece of it. Each one moved slowly to the left. Some of them covering the sun once in a while.

“Hey Pete, I think I see a guitar,” Frank said, “pretty cool.”
“That doesn’t look like one!” Pete argued.
“Whatever, but I still think it’s a guitar.”
“No it isn’t.”
“You need more imagination.”
“You eat too much skittles.”

The fight went on for quite a while. It soon got dark and the two boys went to see the beautiful show of fireflies. Both of them played around with the little insects and tried to catch some of them.

“They look like stars,” Frank said, “only closer.”
“Yep,” Pete agreed.

They got tired and went home, where their mothers were waiting. Their homes were quite near each other. So Pete and Frank waved goodbye to each other and parted Ways.

If only they can treasure their times at the field. The times where they can release the thoughts that pressure their minds. Class, annoying students, deadlines, everything.

Whenever they would play, talk, laugh or make fun of someone kid, it felt like nothing else in the world would be better to do.