Enargeia

The four of us road tripped all night. We finally arrive at a ghost town watering hole jam-packed with tourists for the night. We stand close enough to see, but behind the novices, and take turns wearing out a path to the bar. Suddenly it begins. Spotlight on. They strike the first chord. Endorphins take flight and our eyes light up with the stage. We stop conversation mid-sentence and instinctively step forward. The harmonized melody inextricably wound to memorized lyrics course through our veins, amplifying the pre-drank euphoria. Verses relate moments all four of us have separately lived, uniting them to a common experience. We belt the words at all octaves and pitches, oblivious to those around, keeping rhythm by jamming a boot too harshly into the ground. One hand clutching my beer, the other one flying autonomously to the beat. Everyone around us fades into a blurry collage and are attention only acknowledges the stage and the occasional re-affirming glance at one another, nodding that it all was worth it. And the band plays on.