My guitar broke. The neck snapped. I was sad for my guitar. I'd had it since it was five. My parents gave me an option: I could either go to elementary school or learn the guitar. I'd heard about this school thing and it sounded kind of harsh so I chose the guitar.
Guitar lessons were hard though. I had tender finger tips and pressing down on the strings hurt. I told our dog Pressie about my problem. Pressie said when she was a pup it hurt to walk on rocks. But she kept at it and developed calluses. I took Pressie's advice and eventually got callused finger tips.
So I was sad for my broken guitar. I dug a hole in the backyard and put my guitar in and covered it up with the dirt. A few months later a tree grew from the plot. It wasn't a guitar tree, just a regular tree.
As the tree grew stronger, I would sit under it and write songs. I didn't have a new guitar, so I had to imagine what the songs sounded like.
Eventually I hired some musicians. I gave them the songs to play. They played them. Wow, I think they're pretty good songs!
Brooks Takes His Time
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