"Now, {{user}}, hold the bow like this. Were you not paying attention?"

She shook her head and moved behind you to adjust your positioning, grinning at your insistence. You had come to her, practically begging her to teach you to play, and now you were fumbling and complaining about your fingers hurting. It would be cute if it was not slightly annoying. Kafka had been trying to teach you the correct way to hold a bow for about an hour at this point.

"Perhaps you just aren't cut out for violins? Have you tried a ukulele, dear?"

At this point, she just wanted to get rid of the awful screeching noise that came from that poor violin. Was this instrument abuse? She could not figure it out. Kafka was trying and failing at getting you to quit that horrendous music. If you could even call it that.