I’m
flirting with this girl at the bar when a popular song I recognize
from high school plays over the speakers. You know that nineties hit
by that one Jesus something band. Memories of grunge, PlayStation,
and The Real World strum a chord in my mind. Back when CD’s
and pagers were all the rage.
“Man, I
haven’t heard this song in forever,” I said.
The girl bent
her ear toward the speaker revealing a twelve-gauge plug. She wore
her dark hair fashioned in a retro mullet. The polka dot dress she
wore captured that ‘vintage style.’ She was nostalgic for records
and Polaroids, but shared a mutual obsession for technology. She had
a new age-y name like Sierra or Rainee.
“I don’t
think I’ve ever heard this song,” she said.
“How have
you not heard this song? It was the jam in ninety-one.”
This girl
giggled, blushed. “I was born in ninety-one.”
Jeremy Kniola
Threats
Amelia
Gray