the answers are out there in the drowning deep

They come from all across the UK, some internationally, to sit in the dingy club every night after 10pm. They pack themselves in with a drink, and the band starts up they begin to quiet, waiting. They’ve heard the stories: the woman in the little coastal town who sings so beautifully, you forget: all your sorrows, all your tears. You forget your name, sometimes, and the names of the people you love. You forget what you want, and what you don’t have. All you know is the song, the lull of her voice, sweet and unearthly, and for a little while, for those moments, you are free. This is what they’re told. What they come for. They are never disappointed.