Butterscotch leather clings to my pudgy thighs sugar, caramel, oatmeal cookies wafting from the oven my mouth is watering, too bad they aren’t ready yet I look at the grand piano soft ivory keys glowing amber in the promising spring sun beckon me to practice instead I spin the chair left assessing the vinyl collection reverently, I slide a disc from its liner and delicately place it on the turntable the needle hovers expectantly quivering, a nervous tremor reminding me to be gentle with her I oh so carefully set her into the first groove static boom! and away I go lost in the feelings mind wandering the peaks and valleys of the the voices lyrics, the key to the little gold lock on the journal in my heart feet tapping the footstool headphones connected to the tuner like an umbilical cord tethering me to my soul numbers fall off the clock landing numbly on the shag carpet in front of the moonlit windows Trancing to the kitchen round persimmon table greets me with a plate of well cooled cookies I pour a tall glass of cold milk, blow bubbles into it through a straw before dipping the cookies devouring the safety of childhood
Little known fact. I'm refinishing my Father's console stereo at the moment, putting in new speakers, rebuilding the turntable. It was made in 1969. Love this piece. Reminiscing of Elvis and being a kid again!
Little known fact. I'm refinishing my Father's console stereo at the moment, putting in new speakers, rebuilding the turntable. It was made in 1969. Love this piece. Reminiscing of Elvis and being a kid again!
Oooooohhhhh
Oh Boo! This is delightful!
"devouring the safety of childhood" - beautiful, Boo
Thank you; I was thinking of you when I wrote that line actually. I was thinking 🤔 “this sounds like a Nazish line.” So thank you for the inspiration!
Really!!! I feel so honored 🙂