Carol Camp
Meanwhile, Human
The Hidden Now
#0k
While We Wait For Sunrise
Lifelog
About
Contact
Scott opened his eyes and expected nothing more than what the previous days had offered. The hotel room had started to feel too small after the fourth day. By the third week, it was suffocating.
Monotony had taken over his life, which was exactly what he needed after three years in New York City. He now spent his days in the recording studio, trying to recreate the magic of his first album. In New York, pressure came from every direction. But Memphis didn’t care. Memphis, with all its stillness, offered something he hadn’t felt in years: the comfort of being.
He picked up the phone and made a few calls. First, he called Oliver, the drummer, who confirmed the band was flying in from New York that afternoon. Then the recording studio, to cancel his session - he had other plans. Finally, he called Moti. Moti, a roadie, was Scott's only real friend in Memphis.
“I need to find a house,” Scott said. “I’m staying.”
“Nice! But you mean, like… today?” Moti asked.
“Yeah. Today.”
Moti picked him up, and they headed out. Led Zeppelin II, Scott's favorite album, played in the car. The weather was strange - warm, like most spring days in Tennessee, but the dark sky and thick breeze hinted that change was coming.
After the third house - too flashy, too much like a rock star's (and Scott hated fitting into stereotypes) - they drove past a sign pointing toward the Mississippi River.
“Let’s go for a swim,” Scott said suddenly.
“You can’t swim in there,” Moti replied. “But yeah, we can hang out, take a break.”
They parked near the river, set the radio on a flat rock, and sat down. Whole Lotta Love came on, and Scott grinned. He took off his shirt, left his boots on, and walked toward the water, singing along. He waded in and called for Moti to join him.
“This is illegal, you know?” Moti shouted, laughing.
Scott floated on his back, eyes closed, lost in the lyrics. A minute later, a boat passed, sending waves toward the shore. Moti rushed to grab the radio, yanking it away just before the water touched it.
“Man, that was close!”
He turned around, scanning the water for Scott. He called his name - once, twice, twenty times.
The river rolled on like it always had.
And then it hit him.
He had just witnessed a supernova.