You see, Daren knew thousands of songs. He spent half his allowance on music and high quality head phones every other month, a fact that bothered his mother immensely. He knew every song on his phone word for word, he would lip sync as the music blasted into his ears in an unending loop.
You see, his music understood him, when he was sad, it was upbeat, when he was over the moon it was melancholy, when he was anxious it was assuring and when he was narcissistic it was insecure. It was always what he needed it to be. It was always what he wanted it to be. So he listened to it all day and all night, even in his sleep. So he listened to music; Spanish music, French music, Italian music it didn't matter.
Today he didn't need his music though. He didn't even notice that he didn't need it. His headphones were in his bag the whole day, he didn't even hum or tap his feet to the rythm of the several thousand songs he had in memory, she was his music. She didn't disappoint, she said what he needed her to say whenever he needed he to say it, she made him laugh when he was down and comforted him when he was anxious, she was his music, she was better than his music.
At the end of the song, when they had to part ways he replayed the rythm of her musings as he walked home, he couldn't wait to listen to the music of the day next. Regina had him, no song would ever again compare. this was the last thought he had that day, before he slept and dreamt of all the songs she was yet to sing, all the music they were yet to make.
Had he walked away, kept listening to his music instead of buying her a coffee to replace the cup he had blundered away he would have been saved the pain. Had he simply said a sorry and walked away he would never have heard the musings he would never heard again. For this single night though, he had the music of the day.
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HOW MANY ANGELS CAN DANCE ON THE HEAD OF A PIN?
Ficción GeneralIn their seclusion the truly different people often find themselves in aimless abstraction, but how often does this seclusion yield a true monster, how do they think and what does it take for them to snap? A bit extreme, but perhaps entertaining to...
