Smoke on the Dancefloor
Every night I play here, trying to escape the life my parents want for me. I spin records. I create myths. I can't go back, I won't. But how can I live when I feel so trapped? And why does that strange grey mare seem so free?
My name is Vinyl, but I wasn't born that way. I was born with my life already planned. And it's in my nature to rebel at every turn. But somewhere along the path, I found I can't even be sure what I'm fighting anymore.
Is it the cogs that make up the school I attend? Is it my parents' wishes? Is it my future? Is it her?
1633 words: Estimated 8 minutes to read
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- Stasis 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC1633