"The Sound That Isn't" by: M.H.Darpino
Music moves us in ways trains cannot. Thump thumping ear-buds drown out clickety-clacks while swooshing doors vomit suited lemmings onto poles of indifference. Garbled voices warn tourons of doors closing, babies squeal, children nag, the homeless hum. The sub-audible spillover of a thousand I-pods floats through the throng, passing well-toned legs so smooth, between jacketed shoulders brushing together slightly. The sound that isn't. Unnoticed songs mingle silently, quietly fucking, to conceive in static-charged air - new music: hybrid mixes that no one seems to hear. Save me.
Originally posted on August 9, 2005 on Myspace.
A weird little prose piece I wrote.
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