It’s not the same. That crackle, the warm buzz, the sound not digitalized to perfection!” He sat down on a bar stool, treating the albums like revered treasure. “If you say so.” “Sweet!” Jak held up a copy of Abbey Road by The Beatles, showing Mara. She finished making his sandwich and slid it across the bar. “That is a good one.” The plate barely bumped into the stack of records. “Geez, watch the vinyl.” He snatched the sandwich and the records. “Thanks,” came out muffled since the bread blocked his mouth. She laughed a little. The crazy kid could brighten her darkest moods. Good thing, too, because she had a lot of them. Kaden, running on fumes and unfamiliar emotion, left the house to meet with the high pack. He hoped one of them had made progress because all he’d gotten was an ill omen from an annoyingly ambiguous, but always right, wandering man.
