Daughters of a Righteous Riot
Early one summer morning we rounded up all the mix tapes we've ever made and threw them in a duffel bag which we put in the car. We got in, put on the first tape and started the engine. Off we went, into the bright morning sun, along the lake. We passed through endless fields of wheat; our only company the music blaring out of the speakers, bouncing off the dashboard and the windows. As soon as a tape ended we put another one on. We passed through a small town all but deserted even though it was almost noon. Then came the forest; mile upon mile of brown trunks and dark green needles. All these songs that we once loved back to back, some still sounding as good as they used to, some being unbearable. Hour upon hour upon hour of passing trees and small cottages, sometimes a deer. Song after song after song making our chests tremble and our ears ring.
In the middle of the night we once again found ourselves surrounded by fields with the bright summer night sky above us. In the distance we could see birds, or maybe bats, chasing through the air. As the fields passed by and the last tape ended we stopped the car and got out. There we were; a clear, somewhat chilly, morning in the heart of a forest. After a while we could hear the birds, their singing mixed with the sounds still ringing in our ears. We looked at each other, shrugged and got into the car to go back.