Sunday, January 20, 2013

100 Words a Day 160

It was an old guitar, battered from use and abuse, that lay in the corner. He picked it up with a loving hand and ran his hand along its dented and chipped body, like tracing a lover’s back. He strummed the strings once. It hadn’t lost its tuning despite not being used for some time.

He sat down and began to play a number of songs older than he was. It hurt his fingers and he had trouble singing along; age and a lack of practice were robbing him of his skill.

He put the guitar back feeling much better.

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