She couldn’t play the guitar, but she looked good with it. She started off slow, just walking around, the guitar in a case, on her back. She might, every now and then – after a while – get the guitar out and strum (very slowly) a simple chord that possibly wasn’t even correct. She looked so good doing it that nobody ever said whether it was wrong or not. (Some even actually went so far as to say that she looked so good doing it that the chord went from wrong to right!). After a while it wasn’t just her that started to look good with the guitar. She looked so good with the guitar that the guitar started to look good. The guitar looked good with her. Days spread to weeks, weeks spread to months. They moved in together. Just her and the guitar. The months ticked by. Just her and the guitar.
Nine months later, she had a ukulele.