And so once a month he remembers when he fell in love, when he just played piano. And, the woman? She sweats his drink, slides beside wispy sheets of music, waves around his head, a sound riding on perpetual sustain. Read more →
About feeling disconnected from one's self, especially in a large, group setting, and how this disassociation can change our perception of the world around us, heightening our awareness of the absurdity of existence and making us feel paralyzingly insignificant. Read more →
Behind her, she hears him call, but lets his voice float away and mingle with the noise of the evening, the distant tinkling of cutlery, laughter, an owl hooting somewhere above her in the dark.
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