Room for a Guitar
(Friday night. Ines and Farid are at the kitchen table with a map of Blue Pine Lake.)
Ines: OK, so we'll leave at six on Saturday. The drive is about three hours.
Farid: Three hours? The lake near town is a lot closer.
Ines: It's closer, but it's much busier. In August there are boats everywhere.
Farid: Fine. Blue Pine, then. It's quieter.
Ines: Right. I'll bring the tent and the big pot. You bring the food.
Farid: I'll bring some wood for the fire, too. And my guitar.
Ines: Your guitar? Farid, the car is small.
Farid: It's not a big guitar.
Ines: We've got a tent, two bags, food, water, and a box of wood. There's no room.
Farid: There's always room for a guitar.
(Ines looks at the map for a long moment.)
Ines: OK. Bring it. But then you'll carry the water from the car to the camp.
Farid: How far is that?
Ines: About two hundred metres. Up a hill.
Farid: That's not fair.
Ines: It's completely fair. So? Are you still bringing the guitar?
Farid: Yes. But I'll only sing short songs.