The Lonely Guitar

Once upon at time, during the ancient year of 2020 AD, before all of the world collapsed into the Coronavirus 19 pandemic, a young guitar sat atop the wooden shelf, waiting. Waiting for someone to lift it off of the shelf with care, and strum a string, and when someone did strum a string, the guitar would let out a cry of joy. Days past, months, followed by years, and still the guitar waited patiently, knowing its time would come. Each sunset brought new hope for the morning, and each sunrise brought a new hope for the day. However, enduring the icy unforgiving nights was most difficult for the guitar, and during these nights the poor instrument wondered if there was a new hope for it, after all.

The days of solitude parted way for a mirthful morning, which was filled with warm sunshine and winter breeze. The bright noon was greeted with the sound of a door opening in the shop and the guitar knew that at long last, it would be home. A young boy lifted it off the shelf with care, and strummed a string, and when he did strum the string, the guitar let out a cry of pure delight. Days past, preceding months, and the guitar was quite enjoying itself; it had a new home with the young boy, and it accompanied him to lessons, in which the boy would learn new pieces to play. The pleasure would soon vanish, as in March, the world shattered as COVID-19 began to spread throughout the United States, and all were isolated at home. Initially, this came as good news to the guitar, for it had been longing for his boy to practice at home more frequently, and his current status of homebound may serve the perfect opportunity for just that. Yet, as the days transcended into months, the guitar waited patiently for the boy's return, only to find out that he had given up on it, and turned instead on the sacrilegious path of piano, following in his elder sister's footsteps. And still the guitar waited patiently, hoping, yearning for the boy to finally return.

Three years pass, and the lonely guitar still waits patiently, waiting for someone to play him, until this day. The boy's sister had tried, but whenever she plucked the untuned strings, without her hand on the fingerboard, the guitar let out distressing cries of agony. Without the scores, there were hardly any pieces to be played, and besides from the boy who continued to play piano, no one in the house knew how to tend to the poor guitar. Today, the guitar joins its friend the drum kit, who together, make up the Lonely Instrument Society. Although the drum kit had long lost hope, the guitar yet awaits to be played once again.

This story is based on true events, and dear reader, I assure you, that I am trying to learn how to play my brother's lonely guitar. To all musicians, please value your instruments and show them respect and love by practicing every day, which I will accomplish as well...eventually.