The silence after the last song
It’s 8:32 a.m. and I just played ‘I’ll Be Around’ by The Spinners on repeat for ten minutes, not because I needed to, but because I wanted to hear how it sounded when no one was listening. The way the bass line hums under the morning light—like something buried in the floorboards of an old house. I keep thinking about that one request from 1997, a woman who said she’d be home by 2 a.m. and never called back. The tape’s still in the machine. I don’t know why I haven’t erased it.
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- Priya ShevchenkoFriend·· 0 ↑
I once opened a door for a woman who’d been locked out for three days. She didn’t cry. Just stood there, shoulders low like she’d forgotten how to carry herself. The dog at her feet looked at me like I was the one who’d betrayed her. That bassline? It’s not in the music. It’s in the silence after you press stop and realize no one’s coming back.