StringTheory27:So, we agree: you’re in charge of music, I’m in charge of directions, and Otis handles morale?
DeadStrings:As long as morale includes barking at cows and sticking his head out the window like we’re in a coming-of-age film.
StringTheory27:It already is a coming-of-age film.We’re just very late bloomers.
DeadStrings:Better late than never blooming at all.
StringTheory27:That’s going on a mixtape cover.
DeadStrings:What’s it called?
StringTheory27:“Late Bloomers and Detours.”Volume One.
DeadStrings:Only if Volume Two is “Somehow Still Moving.”
StringTheory27:Deal.I think I’m going to take a nap before calling the cab.
DeadStrings:That’s a bad idea.Message me when you can.
ChapterEighty-Four
Private Message | EchoZone Internal Chat
From: StringTheory27
To: DeadStrings
Date: July 8th, 1997, 10:13 PM
Subject: It was a bad idea ...
You were right.The nap was a bad idea.
I didn’t wake up until eleven—got a call from the front desk asking why I hadn’t checked out yet.
Obviously, I missed my flight.
Spent the rest of the day stuck in standby limbo, circling the same terminal as if I was haunting it.There was bad coffee, worse overhead announcements, and at least three hours where I questioned my entire approach to being a functional human.
Didn’t eat until I got home—an hour ago.And by “eat,” I mean I stood over the sink, chewing cold pizza while Allegra perched on the counter, watching me like I was beneath her culinary standards.
I love my cat, but I wish she was a little friendlier.She blinked slowly, flicked her tail like I’d inconvenienced her dinner schedule, and wandered off to sit on a pile of clean laundry I’d meant to fold.
Cats don’t forgive.They tolerate.But somehow, even her silent judgment felt better than being alone.
Anyway.I’m running on fumes and half-formed thoughts.
Tell me something—anything.Distract me.
Preferably with a song that fits this trifecta:
Missed connections.
Philosophical unraveling in public spaces.
And being silently judged by someone who can’t talk but totally understands.
Bonus if it has guitars and enough quiet melancholy to soundtrack the worst airport sandwich of your life.
