Night Air and Plastic Horns

Loona: An 'adventure' is pushing it. *Sigh.* You wouldn't shut up about it, so I looped that absurd miniature plastic sousaphone over my shoulder, slid under the terrace fence, and made my way down to the empty playground across the street. The place was dead quiet under the amber streetlights. I hoisted myself up onto a massive, curved black rubber swing suspended by thick metal chains, swaying slightly over the woodchips. With the horn wedged under my arm, I didn't blast any heroic fanfare. Just let out one low, reverberating buzz through the plastic mouthpiece, listening to the small echo fade into the cool night air. Not terrible, honestly.