Ralf and Florian were going to make a day of it. They packed up some of that Neapolitan ice cream for a snack and their interplanetary stretch capsule climbed toward the stars.
After a few minutes, gaining their bearings in the cold expanses of space, Florian flipped a switch just above the navigational console; a regular synth hum was expelled, slowly mounting some peak that mirrored their capsule's trajectory through the cosmos. Neither felt the need to speak, instead allowing the darkness outside to roll past, as the music shifted into something a bit more sinister. Pop inklings pushed through the regularity of those synthetic rhythms, at times defying the playfulness of whatever melody the whole thing was built around.
Somehow, Ralf and Florian hit traffic. It wasn't totally unheard of, just a surprise – and something that possibly would postpone a few moments of enjoyment from their day. An interstellar crackup lay ahead, lightbikes being pulled apart after a gnarly collision.
The two looked at each other and then back out at the unfolding solar system. A traffic cop bade them ahead.
As traffic skittered back into motion, the capsule lurched to life, inching incrementally closer to that final destination.
They'd made it almost half way without saying a word. It wasn't so much that anticipation kept the pair quiet, just familiarity and the understanding that pleasantries were unnecessary.
Florian flipped ahead a few SI units on the stereo to find the proper pulses to best suit the remainder of the trip; something aligned to the body, not the mind. Drums thudded to life as the capsule glided past luminescent, celestial beings. Those dudes looked pretty pleased, too.
Just one more turn – a left at that hollowed out asteroid – and they'd be there.
Winston waited just beyond, but didn't hear the capsule float up behind him. His headphones flitted music into floppy ears. Eventually, though, he clocked Ralf and Florian, turned around, fully, and said: “This shit bumps hard, dude.”
He hopped into to back benchseat of the capsule and the trio zoomed off toward Rigel VII. There was supposed to be a double showing. “The Undertaker and his Pals” with a new print of “Suspiria” as the entrée.
released July 10, 2017
All instruments, writing, arrangement, production, mixing, and mastering by Travis Thatcher