The chorus sang louder.
Their angelic voices reaching the skies and merging into a beautiful medley of atmosphere, green fields and playful flute notes, hopscotching their way into his mind.
The singing subdued gently, enveloping his heart with its subtle caress, laden with melancholy.
"Look to your path, at the golden light," he thought, "Don't forget the night."
His trembling fingers wade through the treacle-like air and reached for the volume control. Grasping the rough-edged cylinder, they twist withershins.
The ethereal tenor blew tenderly across his ears, slowly fading into a vast silence.
He wiped a tear with the back of his hand, smearing its saline texture over his creased skin.
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