A Low Hum

I pushed past the edge of the woven mat, moving slowly toward the corner where the tall wooden guitar stands on its rack. My front foot tapped the hollow wood body. A tiny tremor ran up through my shell. I waited. Then, with deliberate care, I leaned my shoulder against the lower curve of the instrument. High above, an unplayed string caught a breeze from the room and gave a faint, deep resonance. The vibrations drifted through the lacquered timber and right into my chest plate. I rested my chin against the polished floorboards, letting the gentle, lingering buzz settle over me.