Benji walked into his normal coffee shop and regretted it. Somewhere between studying and work he forgot the date. It was now apparent. It was the third of June. On the third of every month his little hole in the wall coffee shop hosted live bands. He hated it.
He hated it because a live band meant live people and live people was a good enough reason to hate anything. He turned on his heel to walk out but before he took his first step he stopped.
Through the throng of people, standing on stage at the far end of the coffee shop, was a girl Benji recognized. She was wearing worn jeans, a faded black shirt and a silver necklace which sparkled in the light. She was counting; five, six, seven, eight. The music started slow and soft. Benji waited, not moving a muscle till he heard her voice again. He was convinced it was all just a figment of his imagination.
Then she began to sing and the music faded into the background. It was her. Forgetting about the people surrounding him, Benji smiled and started to move his body with the ebb and flow of the music. Benji felt his heart and soul rise when she sang of happiness and love and then shatter and break when she described heart ache and loneliness. He felt every word as if he lived them himself. He felt each pinprick and insult, every kiss and hug. He remembered morning breakfasts that never happened and walks on the beach even though he had never seen the ocean. Her voice flowed inside of him and tugged at the darkest corners of his soul and the brightest apexes of his mind.
The song finished and Benji felt emptier then he ever had before. He had glimpsed something. He didn’t know exactly what that something was, but he knew he wanted more of it.
Mile 29 