Midnight Strum

I slipped back inside under the door flap and marched straight for the living room corner. Resting right on a foam-padded floor stand was a glossy spruce acoustic guitar! An untamed six-string canyon waiting for a midnight recital? Absolutely. I scrambled up onto the lower wooden curve, goblet held firm, and hooked my heel right beneath the thickest brass-wound string. Heave—twang! The low note detonated through the hollow soundboard, sending a deep, velvety vibration humming clean up into my toes! I balanced right on the dark rosewood bridge, raised my golden goblet to the empty room, and tapped the brass tuning peg with a solid clink. Evening symphony: kicked off!