GUITAR

...bent over the instrument like a lover, he ran his hands over it, almost hiding. his lips were inches away from the strings, as if warming them, blowing them into motion, lubricating them with his spit, sharing voices, whispering...

He was about at tall as the odd and intricate thing in the corner. looks like a person almost, standing there, round hips and flat belly, long neck and alien head with six jutting peg-like features—eyes? looking? he went to introduce himself, as his mother was busy with her biker friend. his eyes were at about the level of the face of this odd creature. he saw that there were strings running almost the entire length of the stranger, so, by way of handshake, he plucked at one. The sound that came wrapped him like a womb. He waited for the note to fade. He plucked again, a different string this time, a different note. Then 2 at once. A whole different feeling. Something solid and soft, not cold not hot. He added rhythm, and played the strings in order, plucking each 4 times, slowly. Charmed, I'm sure.