He returned to the ants. There had been a ton when he stopped eating. One day while he slept they took the piled up, uneaten food away and then the ants disappeared too. He kept thinking about the ants. That's all he thought about when he wasn't thinking about the people out in the parking lot. He no longer thought about his old life. It felt too distant now. All he had was this now. His dancing. The people out in the parking lot. And the ants.

Well that and the music. He would listen to it blaring while he danced in the shower. He would sing along to the lyrics. He now knew all of them. At first he was waiting for a new speaker with new music, but he just had the same one. It was over a year now that he was listening to the same eight songs. This reminded him of his old life. How at one point he and his friends would make mixtapes for each other. Usually you could fit like 12-16 songs into one CD. One time though this girl in his class made him a mixtape with 16 songs. And 16 became a special number for him.

That was twice the amount of songs on this speaker. Eight. He thought both numbers were aesthetic in their own way. 8. And 16.

That night was especially dark. Maybe no stars out or something. He waited and watched for the parking lot. It felt more vivid in this darker night.