The subway station smelled like damp concrete and old rain, a sharp contrast to the polished cedar scent Leo had been chasing for weeks. He clutched the small, padded gig bag to his chest, weaving through the rush-hour crowd like he was carrying a holy relic.
He ran his thumb over the solid Sitka spruce top. He’d chosen this model because it was tough; the HPL back and sides meant it wouldn't crack when the radiator hissed in the winter or when he eventually took it on the road. buy martin lx1e
He wasn't just buying a guitar; he was buying the ability to leave. Tomorrow, he’d pack a bag, sling the Martin over his shoulder, and see if the songs sounded different in a new city. The subway station smelled like damp concrete and