"I Called The House But No One Answered"

"The worn out tape of Chris LeDoux, lonely women and bad booze
Seem to be the only friends I've left at all..."

--Garth Brooks, "Much Too Young"

Morpheus grabs a guitar that has been resting in the corner, although I never noticed it before. He starts to play. The sound is beautiful, even though I know he's not a professional musician. I noticed while he was playing that his boots were dusty.

"What are you playing?"

He shrugs. "Nothing in particular."

"You know, my musician ex-boyfriend told me that I should go back to singing." I was referring, of course, to Joseph.

"Then sing."

"What do you want me to sing?"

"Anything."

I start making up lyrics to go along with the guitar sounds. I sing along. It's the first time I've heard my own voice in years. It's still pretty despite the fact that I don't practice every day like I use to. At one point, years ago, I wanted to try out for American Idol, down in Los Angeles, but somehow, I never got the bravery.