By Ollie Linton
The bubblegum pink record player
has never felt the weight
of dust on its body
handled only with gloves
a ballerina carved
in stone
Across the room in plastic wrap
a dated medium
the insides forgotten
as fear-steadied hands
display it among the rest
lined up in their sleeves
untouched, undamaged
silenced
Only the aged remember
as they dared to tarnish
the delicate grooves
they saw value in the worn
crackled audio
when it met its player
and they smiled when the needle
jumped
over little inconsistencies
unique to its holder
I dare you
peel back the plastic
remove it from its case
let thumb and forefinger
grace the lip
and bring it to the light
dust off the record player
let the needle find
its home in the grooves
Like lovers they will fit
and dance once more
Author Bio
Hey hi hello!
I’m Ollie (he/him), a third-year creative writing student here at QUT. I love all things fantasy and psychological thriller, but also basically anything queer that will ruin my already degrading sanity (thank you Dean Winchester). While my main focus is writing prose, I’ll never shy away from a chance to infect other mediums with my fascination for challenging the human psyche.
Keep an eye on ScratchThat’s socials for awesome and cool shenanigans from me and the rest of the team. We’ve got some exciting things in store.
But until then… *does a backflip*