Technicolor Beat

"It's like . . . you know how at the end of summer camp or college everyone packs all their stuff up and drives off before you so they can go home and reunite with family, and the whole camp is empty and you're standing in the middle of your vacant dorm because your ride isn't here yet?"

". . . Yeah?"

"It's like that. Immortality is being left behind at camp alone, and you don't know why."

She couldn't remember her name. Didn't really matter, plenty of substitutes available. They almost numbered the amount of years she'd been in this world. Luckily for her, there was one reason she was still here, and as soon as she figured out what the hell it was she could fix it and move on.

He remembered her. And what she looked like, how she took her coffee, everything. He couldn't get her out of his head. She was his muse, a glimpse into the impossible where he may finally have something to write about. But what happens when inspiration turns into love, especially with someone who is unable to reciprocate it?

Does tragedy or intimacy await them?

What is destiny, really?