Spring 1955 – Dancing to the Music of Roderich Zahn

 

The road stretched out into the late night blackness. The automobile’s headlights illuminated so little. Above us the star filled sky contrasted sharply with the blank emptiness of the surrounding landscape. 

Rosa stirred and lifted her head. I heard her taste the inside of her mouth and find the experience unpleasant. “Where are we?” she asked.

“About two hours farther into the middle of nowhere,” I replied. 

She reached for the radio knob and began to seek a broadcast. Mostly static rewarded her efforts. Occasional echoes of a voice were caught and quickly lost. And then she found the music.