Snippet #1957913

Pan walked the perimeter of the instrument-packed room. Her eyes scanned them until they rested on... an electric guitar. It was maroon, just like... Memories and memories came flooding back to her, but her face displayed a wistful smile as she made her way to it and picked it up, sliding the pick from between the strings. A song came to her, one she had played many a time. A rock opera. She plugged it in and sat on the amp. There, for the first time in half a year, Pan played the guitar. The beginning was a bit of a warmup for the difficult part, but Pan had been imagining the fingerings ever since the destruction of her old guitar. She was pleased that it didn't sound as bad as she had expected. The notes flowed from her fingers, happy to be back in that special place upon the long lost instrument. Pan spaced out, her fingers doing all the work, her brain doing nothing but observing as the song progressed.