the echoes of the guitar (2)

He strummed it once, and the sound resonated more richly than he expected. The moment the chord echoed through the attic, the room shifted. Suddenly, Jake was no longer surrounded by boxes but standing in the middle of a smoky jazz bar.

His grandfather sat on a stool, younger, his eyes closed, lost in a melody that tugged at Jake’s soul. Applause erupted as the song ended, but the scene dissolved as quickly as it had formed.

Jake stumbled back, the guitar still in his hands. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but curiosity compelled him to play another chord.