Cassettes

I’ve fallen out of the habit of these weekly flash fiction prompts. Well, I’m back with a short story about some cassettes in the attic.


I got myself a cassette player. A Sony Walkman to be exact. Bought it off a retro electronics store online for a hundred and ten bucks. A steep price to pay, but I have my reasons. Seven reasons in the form of seven black cassettes found in the depths of my attic. 

I found them when searching for a leak that had been driving the wife and I mad for weeks. Well, I found it, along with the box of cassettes deep in the corner of the attic. Inside a brown box labeled “For Regan” were seven black tapes. Each tape labeled a day of the week written on masking tape in black sharpie in crude handwriting. At the bottom of the box laid a note which read: “listen every night before bed, best enjoyed with a Walkman.” Now I’m no Regan, but my curiosity got the best of me so I went online and purchased myself a nice refurbished Walkman.

Despite the strange looks my wife gives me I’ve gotten through all but one tape this week, listening from Sunday to Friday. The contents of the tapes are mostly white noise, but when you close your eyes and drift off to sleep you can hear its message. I’ve been taken to worlds unlike ours. Worlds of wonder and joy (Sunday), worlds of intrigue (Wednesday), and worlds of suffering and death (Friday). I almost don’t want to turn on Saturday’s tape after what I’ve seen on Friday, but I can’t help myself. My curiosity must be satisfied. 

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