I pushed the old worn out cassette into the deck and tried to pull out a cigarette and find a lighter. Somethings are necessary at times withouy being predictable. It just pops up out of the blue and mingles with your moments, infiltrating your soul.
It was exactly one of those things and when a sudden surge of new feelings washed over me I was unsure whether it was a byproduct of music or - well, real. Something I could feel.
I stopped the cassette. The feeling stayed. The door pushed open, laughter trickling in.
The irony, the sweet aftertaste of it on my lips. The irony of me living Californian style on Black Forest Roads. The fucked up car. The hippie beach music. The smoke. The sun. Granted, it was pale, but it kissed the sky.
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