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Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.
John sat, swaying to the rhythmic motion of the subway car.
Adults towered around him like skyscrapers.
Riding the subway across town often felt like standing under someone throwing confetti.
Little bits of everything, floating everywhere, surrounding him.
Bits of sound, like the squealing of the subway car on the rail.
Bits of smells, like the pizza the man in front of him is eating.
Bits of colors, fabrics, skin tones and textures.
“I wish I could magically disappear,” he thinks to himself as he turns towards the window.
Building, building, darkness. Building, building, darkness; The subway car blinks, over and over again.
Maybe mom heard him sigh, or maybe she sees all the little bits everywhere too, so she hands him his headphones.
In a few notes he is transported to another world.
No longer do adults tower around him; they’ve been replaced with tall oaks. The squeal of the subway car, replaced with a chorus of birds.
Suddenly he feels free.
“Music is the true magic.” he thinks, as a smile spreads across his face.
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