we were trying to remember the name of the last song on coldplay's x&y album when the walls started rumbling.
i stood up from my spot on the floor where i was leafing through songbooks, and robyn glanced at me quizzically. we were in the sheet music store down the street immersing ourselves in quarter notes and half rests and the like, and the rumbling seemed out of place.
i mean, if you're from california, this sort of thing might be easier explained. or if you live on an active volcano.
when you live on the prairies, rumbling like this means it's most likely the end of the world, or else a semi truck is driving into the building.
the store clerk was standing by the window looking distressed, but the sun was pouring in and it looked relatively gorgeous outside, so i decided it wasn't the end of the world. i imagine the apocalypse won't happen on a gorgeous summer day. [i think the world will wake up at three in the morning all disoriented and it'll be thundering and lightninging and the rumbling will be just a wee bit more fear instilling and, you know, completely disastrous. and everything will be on fire.]
so that left the other thing.
by the time we got to the window, the semi truck was dissapearing into the back alley, still scraping and grinding and thundering against the poor wall of the music store, which gave one last shuddering sigh and was silent.
and it was no end of the world, but it was ok.
but we still couldn't think of the name of that song.