Rock the Casbah

Tension hung in the air, permeated by the clanging of utensils. Mum and Dad hadn’t looked at each other since we sat down for dinner. I tried to ask safe questions, like ‘how was your day’ and ‘what are your plans for tomorrow’, but I received little more than grunts in reply.

I wolfed down the remnants of my pasta bake and excused myself from the table, quickly rinsing my plate. As soon as I was out of sight, I sprinted to my room and closed the door. A moment later, the shouting began.

I dove into my blanket fort and turned on my lava lamp. It took a few seconds to get flowing, but when it did, the purple light it emmitted became organic – its bulbous shapes floating over the cotton walls.

A plate smashed in the dining room and I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. I grabbed my tape deck and headphones, still neatly hanging on the handle of a draw. They were my prized possession, my lifeline. I placed the soft headset over my ears, dulling the noise but not quite removing it. There was only one thing that could do that.

The tape I needed was already waiting for me. With one push of a button, I blocked out the world entirely and sank back into my cushions, allowing the music to wash over me and soothe my soul.

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