tainted air

“Come in, my boy,” said Professor Goldbaum. “I have a new invention to show you.”

He indicated the gramophone sitting on his workbench.

“We have one of those,” I said. “Lots of people do.”

“I’ve added something to mine,” he said. “I’ve told you before that the air is full of words and music. This machine can pull them out.”

“How do the words and music get into the air?”

“People in the future put them there. My discovery of time-overlap allows me to grab them. Listen.”

He strode to his machine, twiddled knobs and levers, and suddenly a talking-and-singing voice filled the room.

The voice was harsh and annoying. So were the words:

“Marco got that big blast
When I blow it at your back
You don’t got a xxxx-xxxxxx chance
A full clip up so close flame touch you
Colors, uh huh, ragged up, uh huh, how I live
Call a Lyft with my piece
With a xxxx MAC-10 we jus’ do this
Claim they killing xxxxx while I really xxxxxxx do it.”

“Geez, Professor,” I say. “Can’t we just listen to your Au clair de la lune again?

photo: https://morguefile.com/creative/GaborfromHungary/47/all _DSC7987

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