Melody of Unexpected Moments

“The song, the song, the song…” He murmurs three times. “What song?” I asked,

trying to gently push him off me. He points at the record player in a desk whose peaks

are covered by plastic anti babies. “Oh.” I got up, walking towards the record player,

and I turned it on. A very familiar tune playing loudly, I gasped.

What the fuck, Melanie Martinez? Anyways as I walk back to him, and I can hear him

murmuring the lyrics as the song goes on. I take a seat beside him,

he takes a hold of my arm and scoots closer, holding with a little more force by each

second that passes where I don’t shove him off. Now the lyrics are quite catchy,