Dust without a backing.
7.15.18 – Pre-amped
You didn’t let me skip, settled me down slow and let the world spin around me as melody came piping in. I’d have been 33 on any other day but we ran fast enough to be played out at separate speeds. I thought the afternoon might have enough heat on it to warp our transit, to make mountains where molehills might have been more prolific, but somehow we were cruising through without even the usual hops to our beat. It would have been questioned if our tape wasn’t scratching at all, a sound signal to tell me that movement was as normal, running in both directions.
Static was still an overlay, pressed firmly enough against the glass, we wouldn’t notice the screen as more than a slight smudging of vision, but when we backed away it was clearly there catching our senses. I put the needle in the valley and figured there might be benefit from checking on the river’s course. The grooves were already etched in by those smooth fingers and all we had to do was follow them to a calmer end. Maybe if we’d gone backwards to the source we might have found a finer shred of silence, but I preferred all the mumbles and stumbles made by a babbling bit of nature.
I pinned those sides at the ends, making a map we’d forget to refer to anytime we needed to return back this way. I saw you folding the thing over trying to make sense like you weren’t sure which side of the coin represented heads and which was tails. I suppose it didn’t have to matter as we would have been content to lay down either and move for the first as is. Familiarity would find us fast as these weren’t routes we hadn’t struck before, but sometimes it was far more simple to begin at the track you wanted.