I slid the tape into my cassette player and closed it. The lo-fi recording illuminated my darkened room. I turned the knob to full volume. My body hit the floor and I punched it. The pain my knuckles endeared was a mere annoyance in comparison to the the bullet hole in my chest and the exit wound through my heart.
I layed in a place where everything was nothing and language had lost all meaning to me. I weaved in and out of the shadows of my mind, guided by an obscure looking 4-legged mammal with no face.
Your voice called for me from the grass. Your face was so beautiful. Crickets rubbed their legs together in anticipation, and I used all the confidence I had to move mine. I sat beside you, legs crossed.
Your boots were laced with laces that resembled the night sky which held all of its nothingness and my fingers laced between yours and it was such an unimportant detail of that nighy if it was even night yet
The tape stopped playing. My heart stopped beating. The birds stopped chirping. The moon’s fluorescent light stopped shining through the crack in my window.