The Music Of Bones And The Meaning Of Ghosts Chapter 1

There's the music of bones
And the meaning of ghosts
The singing of what's lost
And the haunting alone

Jack was in the house again. He didn't have a cut key and he didn't need one. He was down in the basement room. I could feel the brittle brush of electricity on my deadened steel wound strings, even up here in the darkened silent attic, even here locked up in the battered case. He'd slipped through the insulated cavities from the unkempt back garden, drifted through the brick and damp blue wallpapered walls at the back, and was even now resting his distant long dead fingers on Delphine's cold, dusty keys, even though like me, she was still locked away from sight. I could feel him come to play again. A vibration of all of my silvers and golds rose audibly within, in unison with hers, like a plea, a cry or a prayer for the past. Clngnghmhmhmhmngng. But then it was gone...Silence. You couldn't hear a pin drop. You couldn't hear anything. Over before it had begun. Tom lay in bed beneath the beams I now rested on through the plaster, snoring, seemingly unaware in his dreams. But Jack had come back, come back to play and Jack was not gone for good. I was certain of that. I could feel it in my strings...

Please allow me to introduce myself. That's a line from a song I've often played, or had played upon me, depending on which way you look at it, and which way you look at things is more important than most people might think. My name...well, that depends on which way you look at it too. Like most things, or people for that matter, I have more than one name, (think about it...) but for the time being, or arguments sake, for convenience or even inconvenience, you can call me Sigmund, though it wasn't the name given to me at my birth, or before my birth for that matter or used by most people during the life I am living, or the one still tattooed into my interior. But it was Jack's name for me. His nickname. A name that steals your real one or cuts a kind of mark into you for quick identification and I didn't begrudge Jack that. He had a kind voice. Please allow me to introduce myself, as I said before. You may call me Sigmund and I am guitar.