Okay, but for real, what kind of hellion do you have to be to play the flute at 8 a.m. Someone call the exorcist, because this is the work of a demon. It's eerie as it is to hear a disembodied rendition of Hot Crossed Buns but it's especially strange to hear it as the sun comes up.
Once you get over the eeriness, the next phase is when you charge through your flat, sticking your head out every window trying to pinpoint where its coming from. The next phase involves water balloons and/or hate mail.
Our 8 a.m flautist played for a solid two hours. How much flute is there even to practice? It's not like you ever hear the flute in a band, so how much practice is required, reaaaally? Nobody ever said, "Thank god Jerome was on top of his flute game tonight because he really carried that concerto" or, "The whole orchestra was off save for that one flute who we could all totally hear and was definitely shredding it".
Know who was shredding it? The 8 a.m flautist. I guess there's a time and a place for the flute, and in the eye of the flute-holder, that time is 8 a.m; the only time the flute can actually be heard.
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