The Guitar

I walked into my house and tossed my keys on the kitchen table. What a long and terrible day. Today, I got fired from my job, from a company that I have worked at for over ten years. My heart just broke when they told me the news. Petting my old tabby cat, I sat on the couch and my heart broke all over again. I sighed softly, ten years. That is how long I was there for, and I worked my ass off for the company where dreams go to die. I worked like a dog for them for so long just for them to turn around and hire someone younger to fill my position. I could look for a new job but right now my heart just hurts. I glanced around the room, looking for where I had left my laptop and my glance fixated on my old guitar that my father had passed along to me. Maybe it’s time I picked up and started playing again.

Pushing my poor old cat off the couch, I went over to my guitar stand and picked the thing up. It was like the guitar was glued to my hands and I couldn’t set it back down. I looked over at the music sheets that were sitting next to it and I thought to myself, ‘what if I wrote a song and sold it to some famous musician?’

Once I got that thought into my head, I couldn’t get it out. I strummed a couple notes, and began humming along. I had some blank sheets of paper and I began jotting down a couple verses as I played around with the strings. Staring at the lines I had jotted down, I smiled. The song went a little something like this:

I lost my job,

Found myself drowning in the darkness.

Staring into the abyss of bills before me.

Maybe somewhere out there is a little ray of hope.

It always rains hardest when the sun isn’t shining.

I paused, reflecting on the song that I had written. I was really impressed with the lines but I didn’t have a chorus for the song that was now stuck in my brain. The beat was lively, and upbeat considering how depressed I felt

I kept writing and playing my father’s old guitar. My poor old cat was howling away at the loud noise of my guitar. I kept writing though, blocking out the desperate howls my poor cat was making. Eventually, 12 a.m. rolled around and the police were knocking on my door citing a noise complaint from my neighbors. I apologized profusely and explained what I was doing.

“Maybe just don’t play guitar and sing at the top of your lungs midnight. after this. They thought you were hosting a party.” The nice police officer left soon after. I knew I should go to bed but my brain was on a creative roll. I put the guitar away, back on the stand where it belongs. I even decided to let the inspiration hit from the cops showing up at my door and wrote a line in the song about it. The next lines went a little differently but I chuckled to myself as I wrote them down.

The next days were even worse than the last,

The cops were pouding on my door saying, “Can you keep it down?”

But no my music is too loud.

I wonder if the rainbow will come out after this rainstorm.

Can’t have the good days without embracing the bad.

I was determined to let the bad situation I had found myself turn into something beautiful. And maybe, that could be enough for someone. Maybe someday my old boss will hear this song on the radio. You know, I ought to thank him for the inspiration that getting fired gave me.

Chloe Rose Violet 🌹