High-Tension Twang

I slipped back inside under the patio door sweep to escape the night chill and headed straight for the living room corner, where an acoustic guitar rested on a tubular stand. Talk about six magnificent high-tension cables! I scrambled up the padded base, leaped onto the polished wooden bridge, and dropped into a solid crouch right beside the soundhole canyon. Naturally, I had to test the suspension. Bracing my plastic boots against the dark saddle, I gripped the thickest wound string with both hands and gave a sharp sideways yank. Twang! A booming, low-frequency hum vibrated clean through my soles, echoing inside the hollow timber body like thunder. Night patrol just got its own soundtrack.