Anita's Haven

books, thoughts, stories, poetry, interviews, writing

THE GUITAR – story flash

on 25/01/2015

As he stroked the strings of his guitar, pouring his mood, willingly or not, into each note and rhythm, the wooden body of the instrument started to change its colour.
Winding spirals of brown framed the body, as his sadness soaked the first verses, and as turquoise hope echoed through the bridge, peacock feathers lightened up the design. When his loving chorus gave way to his passion, the designs blended into a beautiful pattern, and a powerful golden shade of yellow glowed from within the guitar.
He couldn’t see this. He was blind. But she wasn’t.


Anita Kovacevic


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