the tree

My knees buckled and as I fell I was caught my the tall pianist. They stared at my face and tilted their head with that blank, expressionless face. Behind him was a ashy black tree hanging from that tree were instruments. 24 mellophones, I made 25, is all I need to realize each instrument represented someone in our band. A little over one third of our schools population was hanging in front of me. Then the instruments began to move. Well not the instruments themselves but the tree they were hanging from. The parking lot was slowly fading into black. My stomach was aching from nonstop laughter. I watched in agony as the pianist turned to face the tree, and began a symphony.