I bought a Bat Girl t-shirt at Ragstock yesterday. I like to give myself super powers. Wearing my sunglasses, I summon my best Anna Wintour. My gloves, Ava Gardner. I know it’s all internal, but I like to give it a name. Maybe we all do.

We went to Down in the Valley, the record store near Ragstock. It felt like a Time Machine. I thumbed through stacks, just like I did when there was nothing but time stretched far ahead of us. When we bought full albums at full price. Played it on the stereo. Lying heads beside giant speakers, feeling each note, each lyric as if it were written just for us. Wondering if our lives were soundtrack worthy. Willing to believe they were, and would be ever. 

My husband bought two Kris Kristoffersons. One for himself. One for his best friend from those days of lyrics and promise. I watched the man behind the counter place youth’s super power in the bag and hand it to Dominique.  

The afternoon sun bounced off of Highway 55 and we drove, each a little lighter, armed with nothing shy of super.