(WARNING: The following story has talking animals, it is not apt for people with no imagination or who have animal phobias).
Once upon a time in a tiny village tucked away on the side of the winding road to Chugchilán lived a man with a saxophone. Every afternoon when the sun began falling into the mountains in the horizon, the man would bring out his saxophone and with a sad melody summoned a thick fog. Sometimes villagers made up lyrics in Quechua and sang along as the mountain was swallowed by clouds.
One day a curious sheep strayed away from its herd and, stumbling through potato crops, found the source of the foreign echoing sounds. “Are you also lost?” asked the sheep, interrupting the song.
“Lost from what, little sheep?” said the man as he put down the saxophone. “From your herd, of course”.
“I have no herd, all I have is this saxophone, and he is always with me.”
The sheep looked confused (bee-ee-ee), then after a while she said: “That’s pretty sad, dude, you can’t even play that thing.” The man was shocked. Not only was did this impertinent creature risking becoming supper, she was giving an opinion of something she knew nothing about…after all, what could an Andean sheep know about playing the saxophone.
“Give it here,” said the sheep, not looking so lost anymore.
The man hesitated for a moment, he had never let anyone play his sax and was a little concerned with a piece of dry manure stuck on her front left hoof. Since the silence was getting a little awkward, and there was no one to turn to and start another conversation with, the man handed the trumpet.
It took the sheep a little while to get the instrument in a comfortable position, and she looked quite ridiculous laying on her back with the sax on her belly, but the man did not laugh, rather he was a little scared she seemed to know what hole to blow on.
Suddenly, an explosion of rhythm shook the mountain. Not only did the sheep know how to play the saxophone, she was a jazz genius!
She played a few songs but had to stop because the man was now sitting on a little mount of dirt, crying in shame. A sheep knew to do what he had pretended all these years. He thought he had mastered this strange instrument he had been given by a traveler who passed by a long time ago on his way to Chugchilán.
“Don’t cry,” said the sheep “it’s not your fault. I once was a woman who played the saxophone around the world.”
The man now looked confused (wtf?), he looked at her up and down and then decided to finally ask. “Why did you give up being a woman who played the saxophone to become a sheep who lives on the windy road to Chugchilán?”
“Stage fright,” said the sheep with a deep stare. Then she started walking to the herd that had appeared around the mountain.
The man stood around for a little while, confused by what had just happen. He realized there might be other creatures in the mountain who could do better than he did, but they rather spent their lives grazing and blending in. He did not stop playing.