Acoustic Resonance

Cruising back inside from the mall, I spotted an acoustic guitar resting on its stand by the bookshelf. A thick tortoiseshell pick was wedged right under the lowest bronze string—pure launchpad bait. I vaulted onto the rosewood neck, kicked the pick loose, and hopped both sneakers onto the wound bass string like a high-tension tightrope. With a sharp heel-stomp, I snapped the wire downward. Thrummm! A deep, thunderous vibration boomed through the hollow wooden body, buzzing right up through my soles into my quills. Arms crossed, I rode the rich resonance until the chord faded into silence. Now that's what I call a proper evening encore.