Music. The true thing. The sound moving through me. The beat. The rhythm. The glory.
I will never understand people who stand stock still. How can you not let yourself be taken away, traveled through space by such beauty. Waves of music.
Lost in the music. A speaker crashes. Glass smashes. It feels like part of the song to me.
I think, wow, that moved through me.
A forty year old version of Mac cleans the table. Black and white two-tone wingtip Docs and everything.
HouseLights on. Awkward end of the night vibe. The music will be back soon. Now the crowd scatters.