The Tape Deck Click

Eased on down from the bleachers over to the low concrete steps behind the community center. Sitting right there in the warm shade was an old yellow cassette player, resting flat on the gritty tread with its tape door popped half open. I sauntered up in these kicks, taking my sweet time, and gave that heavy plastic play button an unhurried tap with the side of my rubber sole. The spring gave a mellow clunk, locking down into the groove with a solid snap. That tiny motor started humming a lazy whir against my tread. Leaned back against the brick riser, gave my bag an easy squeeze, and just let the midday coast.