Hammer Dulcimer

Floating through the nightlit city, high and uptight; good, but with a spiny ball of anxiety lodged in my belly. It jumps to my heart at intervals, and I think: I want something. I want someone. Peering in the depths of the dimmed music shop, a thing isn’t there. Something for my project. Zooming back to the bookstore on senseless feet, finding what to read, what to watch. Then home. In ten minutes, I’ll be home in my head.

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