When the Music Stops

Click, click, double-click, click. I hear the sound that my computer mouse makes whenever I move my index finger. Click, click. A funny sound I never noticed. Why did I just? I was listening to Gonzales' Solo Piano, I remember clicking the triangle that made it run. I miss cassette tapes. Tape players always made a sound when the A-side was over. Click. 

I miss my old room in our old apartment, long before we moved. It was a sorry little space with no window and no heater. It had an ugly, brownish carpet floor and was furnished with my parents' ancient wardrobe, a couch that unfolded into a bed, a single desk with a drawer, a small cabinet and some wall shelving. It wasn't much, but it was mine. 

That was around twenty years ago. I prefer today, but sometimes I miss those days. I had a stereo with a double tape deck. It was a Christmas present and it was always one of those possessions you don't mess with. A few days ago, my brother left and I'm not gonna see him again for at least half a year. My dear friends and family, please be safe.