One Chapter at a Time

By AnnieBeee

Secret Love

When I was a teenager I had a record player in my room, in the days when Ghetto Blasters were cool, and I used to play old jazz records. There is something very wonderful about watching a record spin and proper old fashioned record sleeves.

Tonight, lying in the bath I was listening to this old CD, not quite as good as a record but the music was soothing, washing the day away.

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