We play on our backs inside two of the fifty odd display cases from the abandoned department store. My bedding beneath us. Position our guitars to fit. Legs tap the air to keep in time. Wails echo the old men’s floor. We can’t hear each other. Communicate with Sharpies and paper. Leave it all behind. I’m still sheetless and pillowless.

Karolina:

“again?!?!”

Sweat mess. Swamp display case. Expend so much energy in one hour. Didn’t even play all the songs. Didn’t have to. Never at a loss for words, chords. Signs to Pannis. He’s flawless. Musicianship ascends rapidly. It’s not been long and we have enough for another album. Only months since we were forgetting words and only playing golden chords.

Jay Son:

“After I left I couldn’t get Boyz II Men out of my head.”