“Rotary” by Harper Kingsley

It’s like hitting all red lights. Every single station is a commercial. Flipping through the channels was a frown-making experience.

With a sigh, he tossed the remote control on the table.

“Spedro, switch to music please,” he said. Relaxing into the couch as the TV screen switched through functions and an analytics-chosen playlist began to play. He sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the back of the couch.

He let himself fall into the music. Drifting and swaying to the beat, the whole world stillng within him.

His nerves had been in such a jangle for the last few hours. He hadn’t been able to settle himself, to focus on anything.

It made sense that the music would so entirely sooth him.

He wasn’t focusing on anything.

He was letting himself go.

He breathed deeply and let the music catch him up in its embrace.

x

When the Duty Phone rang hours later, he felt well-rested and refreshed.

He rose smoothly from the couch and strode across the room to open the panel that hid the red rotary phone with its curling wire.

He picked up the phone receiver and brought it to the side of his head.

“Blue Ice here.”

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

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