“Where am I going?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter, go wherever you want. Turn on the radio and then shush.” Jim said. He had a yellow legal pad propped up by one knee, pen in hand ready to take notes.

I shook my head and kept my comments to myself. Jim Carver may have been crazy but that was always a distant second to a generous nature backed by his family’s money. I had taken a job driving him around in his own car but I had thought we were going somewhere.

Jim pointed at the radio and watched closely as I reached out twisted the knob. Ethereal music danced to life. The melody was composed of nature sounds gradually shifting from subtle song to ambient noise and back again. A longing to visit whatever place had spawned the music opened like a door in my chest but I didn’t know how to get there. I didn’t know what to do. A shuddering gasp broke out of my mouth. I wanted to cry for my loss but I couldn’t even articulate what I was missing.

“What is that?” I asked with some difficulty.

“I don’t have a clue.”

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