Taking the Guitar Home
So, when he finally got home, he barely kept it inside; he was itching to play his guitar. He strummed several hours at chords, experimented with melodies, and just let go inside the music. That was peculiar, though – a different feel than any other instrument he’d ever played. Each note had a certain depth to its tone, a richness that made every single note feel so much more meaningful. He felt a connection to the guitar beyond its physical attributes.
He began playing and noticed many tiny scratches and worn patches on the wood, which must have been marks from years in playing. The fretboard was so smooth, a product of countless hours of practice. Even strings with wear seemed to tell some sort of story. He thought of the former owner and what kind of music used to flow through this instrument.
He looked closer at the guitar. His curiosity was growing. He felt as if he were holding some part of someone else’s life. A guitar can really see things that one can hardly imagine. It is beyond being just an instrument; it felt like a bridge to the past that ties him up with a story both unknown and intriguing to the young man. For sure, he had to dig more into the guitar, its history, or more interestingly, where it was coming from.
