The Guitar

I walked into my house and tossed my keys on the kitchen table. What a long and terrible day. Today, I got fired from my job, from a company that I have worked at for over ten years. My heart just broke when they told me the news. Petting my old tabby cat, I sat on the couch and my heart broke all over again. I sighed softly, ten years. That is how long I was there for, and I worked my ass off for the company where dreams go to die. I worked like a dog for them for so long just for them to turn around and hire someone younger to fill my position. I could look for a new job but right now my heart just hurts. I glanced around the room, looking for where I had left my laptop and my glance fixated on my old guitar that my father had passed along to me. Maybe it’s time I picked up and started playing again.

Pushing my poor old cat off the couch, I went over to my guitar stand and picked the thing up. It was like the guitar was glued to my hands and I couldn’t set it back down. I looked over at the music sheets that were sitting next to it and I thought to myself, ‘what if I wrote a song and sold it to some famous musician?’

Once I got that thought into my head, I couldn’t get it out. I strummed a couple notes, and began humming along. I had some blank sheets of paper and I began jotting down a couple verses as I played around with the strings. Staring at the lines I had jotted down, I smiled. The song…