Audio Slaves


  The music throbbed through the air impressively, dominating our auditory inputs and leaving us deaf to anything but what the disc jockey demands, his patchwork credo transcribed via a hundred artists the world over. He is our master – our sensory chaperone for the evening, and we are helpless to do anything but obey.

  Kimberly mouths something across the neon darkness towards me, lit up intermittently by stray strands of strobe. She shoots me a wink that I don’t understand until she pulls Alex with her and leaves me alone on the dance floor with Jade.

  It’s a trap!!


~ by Joseph Blame on April 18, 2011.

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