"Plug your phone in."
I look at Laura in a funny way. "Sorry, what?" I ask.
She points to a black cord that snakes from a jack in the stereo down to my feet. The silver part, the one that plugs into the phone, glints in the light from the overhead streetlights.
"What should I play?" I question.
Laura shrugs her shoulders. We have been taking it extremely slow. She can tell how nervous I am to exit the city perimeters. She says we can go up and down the highway, where the mines can be seen, until I am ready to go beyond.
"You're the one running this show," she says, her eyes never leaving the road. At this point I didn't think it would matter, focussing on the road, seeing that we have been going as slow as possible.
"You might not like my music," I say.
"And what makes you say that?" Laura asks.
"Not many people do."
"Well, try me," Laura smiles. "I'm a pretty open-minded person. And if I hate it... well, at least I only have to deal with it for one night."
We share a giggle as I pick up the cord and plug my phone in. A pop sound bursts from the speakers, followed by a subtle static noise. I go into my ambient music playlist and press shuffle.
Soon the noise fills up the car with the low drones that is meant to represent sounds of outer space. It's both relaxing yet unsettling. The idea of space terrifies me, yet I love to partake in it. Close my eyes and let my mind wander into the abyss, surround myself in stars and black holes and everything in between. In this moment of uncertainty, being out in the open with nowhere to go, I try to find solace.
"Don't you think it's weird how certain music can be associated with a certain style of fashion?" I begin.
Laura smiles funny. "What made you think that all of a sudden?"
"It's a thought I've always possessed," I respond. "I find it weird how colours of fabric and hair can determine what type of music that person listens to."
"Do you find that's always true?" Laura asks.
I consider this. "More often than not."
"What music do you think I listen to?" Laura says. "Based on my clothing."
I look over at her, her body reveals itself in glimpses, due to the overhead streetlights coming and going as we pass by them.
"I imagine you like pop music," I decide.
"And what makes you say that?"
I look at her further. "It's the pants," I respond. "The fact that they're short, above your knees. They look modern, like pop music."
"I see," Laura laughs. "So, must all people that listen to pop music wear short shorts?"
"I'm not saying they must. I'm just saying that it's common for people who listen to, say, pop music, will wear more modern clothing."
"What defines modern?" I feel like Laura might be getting annoyed with what I'm saying, but her tone stays the same.
"I believe modern clothing is more revealing."
"You sound judge-y," Laura says, her tone shortens. It stuns me.
"Why do you say that?" I ask.
"It just sounds like you've got some sort of dislike towards pop culture," she says. "Like it's a bad thing that people want to listen to music that people are making today."
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YOU ARE READING
Night Shift
Genel Kurgu"It's the same routine every night. I've done it so many times I can basically lock everything down to the very millisecond. Hell, maybe even the very nanosecond. "