The music stopped and…
He could hear everything. For the first time in months he could hear every word of every conversation in every seat on the train. He could hear the three women four rows ahead of him prattle on about shoes and diets and sun tan creme. He could hear the news on the radio of the guy in front of him seep out of loosely placed ear buds. He could hear about the the thrombosis battle that the biker dude had waged for the better part of the past two months. He could hear all about stocks, bonds, funds, rollovers, IRAs, and the IRS. He could hear the vacation plans of three different half drunk post college shore bound nymphs. He could hear about four different asshole bosses, one rude secretary, two lazy janitors, seven condescending IT guys, three bad haircuts, and one great night that no matter how hard she tries or how lucky she gets she’ll never ever have the good fortune to repeat. Yes, for the first time in months, he could hear everything… whether he wanted to or not.
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