Forcefully, his rough fingers thudded on the cut through strings of his poorly looked after guitar.
In his mind, he was a famous musician, who was the best at playing his fretted musical instrument.
“Can you keep that horrible noise down, Simon?” shouted Esra – his sister - who was much more of a brass person.
“It’s called a symphony!” he barked, sharply.
‘’You call that a symphony?” asked his sister, in sarcasm “It was completely out of tune!”
Simon kept his head down and carried on playing his instrument (not knowing how bad it was) “You’ll regret this,” he mumbled.
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