Here I am looking at my guitar from the across my room. I’m sitting here just staring at the instrument. It looks like a cherry. The bottom of it reminds of one, with its stem being the neck of the guitar. Well, it’s actually just a red Fender Squire and it’s not my first guitar. My first is standing up against another wall in my room just to the right of my Squire. The body is still all shiny. It’s an old acoustic Harmony; I remember when I first got it. You should’ve seen the look in my eyes. It was a look of surprise and excitement without a doubt but I wonder if anyone really saw my expression. Oh of course I was excited, but I was all uneasy for some reason. The box was too wide! Everyone was staring at me, my mom, dad, family, and my grandma. I was sixteen years old. My first guitar in their eyes, well it was my first guitar in mine as well. “Ma, c’mon!” I droned as she and my grandmother spoke in the front of the car about Christmas and who is ...
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