[The sound of a song beginning snaps the Balladeer's attention back to the tape pretty quickly. There's no hesitation on his part. It's a story; it's meant to be listened to. Still, he's quiet too, waiting for a lull in the lyrics - I felt eager and wanted, rapt and unguarded and free - before saying quietly:]
It sounds like a painful story.
[This is only a tape. It can't capture voices from the distant past, people who were dead and gone decades before the recording happened. But the Balladeer being what he is, perhaps he has a vague sense of it nonetheless.
no subject
It sounds like a painful story.
[This is only a tape. It can't capture voices from the distant past, people who were dead and gone decades before the recording happened. But the Balladeer being what he is, perhaps he has a vague sense of it nonetheless.
Hold still, I see you - don't move -
But if so, he keeps it to himself.]