Silent Sanctuary
, New York, NY
Roxie hadn’t been alone in a guy’s room since college. So when she sat in the silvery light of Javier’s room in Maspeth, she felt like she was eighteen again.
“This was my first one,” he said, showing her a cobalt blue Fender Stratocaster. “I got it when I was thirteen. I refused to stop playing until I could play every song on Abraxas perfectly.”
“It’s beautiful,” Roxie said, daintily touching the fingerboard.
“I named it Soledad.”
“You did not!”
“I did too. After my grandmother.”
“That’s sweet,” Roxie said dryly. Javier blushed. “You know I never cared much for Santana.” She added.
Javier’s eyes flashed. “What do you mean you never cared much for Santana? Are you crazy? He’s one of the greatest. He’s my gente.”
“So, Ricky Martin is your gente too and you can’t stand him. Secondly, Santana is one of the best but he’s not the best.”
“Well who do you like then?”
“Kirk Hammet.”
“What? Metallica? Oh, God lord,” Javier said. He set the guitar down and picked up a set of headphones and placed them gently over Roxie’s ears. He took Persuasion out of its sleeve and set it on the turn table. Suddenly Roxie’s heart skipped a beat as she was hit by the warm, full blooded sound, swirling around her like a deep red Flamenco skirt. The Bose noise cancelling headphones produced the sound in crystal clear tones.
Roxie felt herself closing her eyes. She felt her self lean forward. She felt her lips press against Javier’s. She felt Javier’s lips press back.
Maybe, she thought, Maybe there is something special about vinyl after all.
Writen by
Elizabeth Sowden
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Posted by Mirela Gluck at 04:14 PM
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