The musician played well known ballads, both those local and known abroad. He played them with such fantastic talent that no one breathed loudly, and the sound from the audience was gasps, for no one expected to be at such a place, at such a time, and hear such music.
Bob saw his superstar and would wait until the end to offer him everything possible.
As the audience cheered at the end of the tune, the musician didn’t raise his head but began another. The way his fingers moved on the strings was so artistic, so magical. Bob’s eyes were glued.
At the end of that song, everyone was standing and applauding, the light was moved, the guitarist now in darkness, and the M.C. was there.
As Bob’s eyes traversed the stage, he couldn’t see the guitarist Some how, he was gone.