Summer 1970 – Making the Puppets Dance

 

There was something in the music. No, that was not correct. There was something behind the music, something hidden in the recording that did not register to the human ear. I looked around me. I seemed to be the only one who noticed. The eyes of the other guests grew wider. Their pupils dilated. I hope hear them taking deeper breaths. I could hear their breathing beginning to synchronize. 

The song ended. All conversations ended at the same moment. For a few seconds, the room was silent. Then a languid voice from a couch in the corner said, “Play it again.”