It wasn’t until I lived alone and it was quiet around me at night, with the screens in the windows and the hot wet air all over my skin and the dark outside, that I felt the sharp relief of something wrong, as though wrong had substance and it was standing in the room with me.
Sometimes it seemed as though the quiet was alive, that it breathed a low quiescent hum in the air around me; that it had been waiting for me; that it knew something was coming.
You know how it is, how you feel when you see something or you hear something that you haven’t seen in a while. Like maybe you find an old album in the bottom of a box, and you pull it out and you listen to the album and on it is your song and when you hear it again, when you hear the song that was your song, you see in one stripped down moment what you’d known all along, but the knowing was humming underneath, you realize you’ve been waiting for this song to come and find you and open you up again, help you find what you lost, so you can know the lost thing again; and maybe this time you can keep it with you.
It takes quiet to find what you don’t remember losing.
Hey!! I said, it takes quiet to find . . . KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE, MORON, I'M LOOKIN' FOR SOMETHING!!! WHERE THE HELL IS MY FUCKIN' AIR SUPPLY ALBUM?!! Shut UP!!!!
Opening: Robin S......Continuation: Anon./EE