The way the music sounds — echoes, really — inside the empty dance hall is beautiful. It ricochets off the walls, and around, and around. The boom box on the floor shakes with the power of the words it’s putting out.
And you– you stand in the center of it all, with your head thrown back, kneeling, your face upturned, like you’re frozen in time.
You’ve been sitting there for the past half hour now, and I keep wondering, as I look in through the doorway, if you’re still thinking about me.
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