You know those nights that feel like films: when you feel as
though you’ve gone milky orange and black in the night light of an inner city
photograph and when the song on the stereo is your soundtrack.
This was one of those nights; held up somewhere between a
rock and a hard place on the highway back home.
The buildings we passed were skeletons still, without hearts. The
ones that lived were deep asleep.
Sounds crunched and rattled and crawled out of the speakers
as we passed car after car; tiny contained universes separate to our own.
It was as if we were
rocketing through an abandoned sound stage suspended in Thursday night lights.
Tyres on tar and eyes to window as the song played out.
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