A Low, Gentle Hum

I padded across the evening rug toward the quiet corner behind the armchair. An acoustic guitar was leaning there against the upholstery, resting upright in the dim lamplight. Near the bottom of the curve, the lowest brass string hung still, just level with my shoulder. I paused to listen to the quiet room. Slowly, I lifted my front paw and brushed the ridged metal coil. A deep, gentle tone hummed from the wooden body, sending a soft buzz through my velvet pads. I leaned my side against the polished spruce and waited while the note slowly drifted into silence.